Honor Among Thieves
by hiddeninthedarknessofdaylight
Summary: Pirates, princesses, tyrants, and murderous magic users she could handle. It was only when Killian Jones showed up she started to have problems. Hook/OC slow build.
1. Prologue

**I know I'm only two chapters in, but I decided while writing the third that I wasn't happy with the way it was going and started over from the beginning. Hopefully this will be a little more interesting for you guys this way. :)**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own. **

**Please Review! It's nice to have some sort of feedback. Thank you!**

**~ Prologue ~**

_The not too distant future._

Without a second thought, her hand curled around the frayed collar of his shirt and pulled him towards her, slamming her lips against his almost painfully. For so long, she'd been so blind - so stupidly clinging to her work as if it would mean something in the end. But all that was gone, ripped from her grasp just like so many other things she'd loved. And she'd be damned if she let him slip away, too. No, she was done denying it. She was done fighting the way her heart raced when he looked at her - done feeling guilty for waking with his name on her lips. She was done playing games with him.

At first, he froze against her, hesitant and surprised, before his hand gripped her hip to draw her closer. His hook pressed firmly into the small of her back, though he was careful not to hurt her, even as his lips began to move eagerly against hers.

They pulled apart momentarily, faces close and breath ragged, each meeting the other's gaze. She could see in his eyes that same strange fear he'd been struggling with since they'd met. She knew there was some haunting thought there, some distant memory he wouldn't let anyone touch. It was his, and only his - a wall he'd built brick by brick over the years, whether to protect himself or the people close to him.

She waited for him to decide, her breath catching in her throat as he searched her eyes almost desperately. And at last, after what seemed like an eternity to her, he let that terrible barrier fall, crashing over her like a wave.

He crushed her lips under his as he pinned her against the wall, the wooden beams of the captain's cabin groaning under the force. Her hands buried themselves in his still-wet hair as she wrapped her legs around him, tasting the salt of the sea on his tongue as he explored her mouth, consuming her like a man dying of thirst. It was nearly all she could do to breathe as she reveled in the feel of him. She knew this changed nothing - tomorrow he'd still be hell-bent on revenge and she'd still be standing in the path. But everything was somehow different. It was as if she'd spent her whole life locked in a room only to discover he was the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin, driving her further and further beyond the world she knew and into his embrace.

He was as changing as the tides themselves, torn between the two edges of passion. One moment he was touching her gently, kissing the ragged scars crisscrossing her shoulders as he carefully pulled away her borrowed shirt. The next he was scraping his teeth along her skin, grinding his hips into her and letting loose a frenzied growl in answer to the breathless gasps escaping her lips.

His lips closed around the harden peak of one breast, and she could feel him smiling as her hips bucked against him unbidden. His hooked hand as at her knee, bringing it up higher around his waist as his fingers dug into her ass so forcefully she knew she'd bruise, but the pain didn't even register past the overwhelming pleasure of having him so close. She breathed his name, grasping his shoulders tightly as he moved back up to kiss her, abruptly lifting her the rest of the way off the ground and settling her weight onto him. She could feel the length of him pressed up in between her legs through the leather of his pants as she rocked against him, her nails scraping across his scalp and down his back, leaving him moaning into her mouth in response.

He carried her carefully over to the bed against the wall. She tugged his shirt up over his head as he moved, rewarded with a breathless smile from the man she'd finally fallen for. She sucked gently on his earring as he settled himself over her, her nimble fingers shaking slightly as she unlaced the front of his breeches, pushing them down over his hips and forcing him to kick them away before he could return the favor.

"Nyx, love," he breathed, his breath warm on her skin as he delayed that fateful moment for just a while longer. His stormy blue eyes darkened with something far deeper than just desire. She knotted her fingers gently in his hair, for once entirely unafraid of that nameless emotion swelling unchecked in her chest. "Don't stop."

She smiled up at him and brought him down to kiss him deeply before she answered.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Captain."


	2. Chapter 1

**~ Chapter One ~**

_Two weeks post curse._

The door behind her swung open, filling the bar with an orange mid-afternoon light. Nyx didn't need to turn around to know who it was - she'd long since meorized the pattern of his footfalls. Picking out that light spring in his step, that cocky twist to his otherwise panther-like grace, was as simple to her as breathing.

"Took you long enough," she grinned, taking a small sip from a half-depleated whiskey glass. It had been nearly two hourse since she'd slipped him her note, the small, torn slip of paper adorned with two carefully scrawled words. She'd known for a while he'd been looking for her, his search having started almost as soon as he'd remembered. Every morning, he'd dutifully packed himself into the town square with the rest of the general populace, scanning the sea of faces for anyone he might recognized, though he dared not post her picture on the large bulletin board they'd erected outside town hall. Yes, she'd known. But she'd waited and let him search while she worked to find the rest of them, holding off on contact until she decided on a plan.

"Show off," he muttered, though Nyx knew he wasn't really cross with her. She could almost feel the smirk in his voice as he tossed her message on the table in front of her, the lined page unfurling to reveal the words _Rabbit Hole_. "Didn't think you could even reach my ear."

"I live to surprise," she shrugged, still grinning as he moved to sit in the chair opposite her. Nyx had been her father's only child, but she'd always had plenty of siblings. Bryan - four years her senior - had always been the closest to her. They'd been paired together since their first time out in the world, partners in crime. Their skills so happily complimented each other they'd never failed a job when they were together.

Bryan was the blade in their little cloak and dagger enterprise, his broad shoulders and sinewey muscle hard-earned and highly effective. She'd lost count years ago how many times he'd saved her ass in a fight, buying her just enough time to escape. Of course, that often meant she was left to break him out of jail later, always before they met with any serious consequences. When she'd been landed with the overly-audacious title of "Guildmaster" at the tender age of fifteen, he'd rarely strayed far from her side, becoming a constant protector as well as a guide. It didn't take long for her to name him her Second, and she'd never regretted that decision. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was good with numbers.

"And don't we all know it." He frowned in disapproval at the glass in her hand. "Isn't it a little early?"

Granted, it was only two in the afternoon, but she hadn't really been worrying about it. "I'm celebrating," she pouted. "You know me - special occasions only. I hate being slow."

"And what exactly has you so excited, sister dearest?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"No, I suppose not." His green eyes lit up in barely contained excitement, and she knew he'd been just as bored as she'd been.

"I guess accounting just doesn't get your heart racing quite the same way, then? It's a shame, really. You were good at it. Really saved us all a pretty penny on federal income taxes every year - although I can't help but wonder where all that money really went, considering Storybrooke isn't even on the map."

"I was pretty much doing all the bookkeeping before, so don't get me started on how exciting it isn't or you'll be stuck with doing the numberwork. Besides, you probably shouldn't be the one talking about a 'pretty penny.'"

"Yes," she grimaced halfheartedly. "Penny Banks the impovershed locksmith and part-time bartender. Don't think Regina's sense of humor was lost on me." While Nyx had been, more or less, one of the more financially well endowed pre-curse, 'Penny' had a small, underfurnished apartment above Granny's diner, and she was almost always late on the rent - locks in this town didn't break nearly often enough to provide her with a real living. It was funny, really, considering she'd been doing most of the lock-_breaking_ back home.

She supposed it was almost as funny as Bryan helping people out filing those taxes he'd always been so handy at avoiding.

"So what's the plan then?" He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms expectantly over his chest. "Pick some pockets, wreak some havoc, make friends, make enemies, along with the rest of the usual?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We haven't had to pick pockets in years." The Guild had been so successful in past years, they'd only resorted to good old fashioned street work when they'd needed to send a message. Nyx couldn't really take all the credit, though. The rule of the 'Evil Queen' had made the general population rather desperate for some sort of protection - protection the Thieves' Guild had been more than happy to provide. Their numbers had increased exponentially, as had their influence over daily life in the Enchanted Forest, and with all their extra manpower they'd expanded to less traditional forms of larceny - intelligence. Within the short months following the Queen's ascension to the throne, Nyx had built herself a web so thick the woman couldn't have sneezed without a report landing on the Guildmaster's desk. While it would have been easy to blackmail their largely-feared reigning monarch into spilling coinage into her pockets, it would have left her clients - many of whom were family to members of her organization - vulnerable. So she fed her information to Snow White, keeping the bandit princess out of her step-mother's clutches while building the girl up to be a figurehead among her people.

All in all, it had worked rather well. Snow had won; the Guild had been in excellent standing with the new government, allowing for fewer mutilations of her 'family' and significantly more freedom of movement - provided Nyx continued to keep various rogue elements firmly under her thumb and maintained certain standards on who the Guild targeted for their less-than-legal endeavors. Not to mention she'd earned herself a friend in the incorruptible princess, even if the woman's new husband was still moderately suspicious of her.

Luckily, although Snow was still missing in action, she'd been able to help their acting-sheriff with the pressing matter of finding the Mad Hatter earlier this week. She had high hopes that the man would eventually sort out his rather strict set of morals so they included that grey area Nyx had chosen to live in.

"I was actually thinking it might be a good idea to do something helpful - though it might be hard to stomach considering how blatantly _legal_ it is. The sheriff's office is tradgically incapable of addressing the town's growing list of missing persons, which is something we've always been rather good at."

Bryan shrugged. "Sounds fine to me. At the very least we can sneak around and pretend like we're up to no good. Might even get to pick some locks and do a little interrogation while we're at it."

"No one gets hurt, if at all possible."

"That's never really been a problem." He paused for a moment. "Have you thought about who will come back? I mean, this is pretty much a chance to start clean for everyone."

Nyx had never really forced anyone to stay - people were free to come and go within the Guild as they pleased, so long as they weren't causing problems. There had been a few occassions where she'd had to put down unsanctioned factions that had been terrorizing villagers, but for the most part she had no interest meddling in the affairs of people who didn't want to be there. "We'll manage well enough. There are always people looking to start over; and they've always been welcome to, as far as I'm concerned."

"Fair enough. So what's our first job?"

"_You_ get to go hand out little notes to everyone. I'll help you for a few days, but then I'm going to go have a chat with potential allies."

"Good luck with that. I don't think I want to be there when the Dark One and the Evil Queen meet you face to face for the first time."

"They've seen me before - they just didn't entirely understand who I was." She'd usually gone in disguise whenever she needed to deal with either of them, but they both knew very well that the Guildmaster was responsible for habitually throwing wrenches into their plans - occassionally just for the entertainment of watching them put the pieces back together.

"Exactly my point. You're sure it's a good idea to expose yourself?"

She let out a breath, understanding his concern. But Storybrooke was too small for her to hide her identity for long, and she'd rather deal with their ire personally than allow the Guild - or the town - to suffer for it. "I'm sure."

He didn't look particularly convinced, but he let it slide. She was thankful for the small display of trust. "So where are we going to meet? The sewers aren't exactly as sanitary in this world as they were at home."

"The twins - " she nodded pleasantly at Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, who were listening in unashamedly on their conversation, "have agreed to let us use the basement of _The Rabbit Hole_ in exchange for protection from looters and the usual cut of whatever profits we might make. Naturally, this also buys their discresion should any unwanted visitors come knocking." She sent a pointed glare towards the twins to ensure they understood. "Now, do you have any more questions or can we get started?"

His grin was answer enough.

* * *

By the time he finnally stepped out of the smithy and into the bright afternoon sun, the ground was already littered with bodies. There had been no screams - no shouts or cries for mercy. If it hadn't been for the sudden deafening silence startling him out of a book, he might not have noticed Cora's presence until she'd come knocking on his door.

Their little island had been home to nearly a hundred refugees from the rest of the Enchanted forest, and he didn't need to count the corpses to know how many of them there were. No one had dared brave the outside world for several weeks at least, save those lucky four the sorceress had gone after the day before. Their little quest had saved their lives, at least momentarily, and "alive" was becoming an increasingly rare description for humans it seemed. He was no stranger to death, himself - or to killing - but the outstanding display of sheer power before him as he watched Cora begin systematically ripping dead hearts away from their previous owners, a chillingly delighted expression lighting up her features, he was reminded once again of what a bad idea it would be to cross her as long as he still valued what was left of his existence.

"Captain," the woman smiled, her voice, as always, overly sweet. "You look a little green."

Tearing his eyes away from the body of one of the children he'd often seen running around the village, he steeled himself against a wave of guilt he refused to succumb to. Everything had a price, and if this was what allowed him to avenge Milah, so be it. The _Crocodile_ had taken far more lives than Hook had paid to get here. And if the ends truly justified the means, well...

Breathing steadily through his nose, he retreated into his customary sarcasm, raising an eyebrow and stepping forward into the carnage. "Must have been something I ate. Chimera never has agreed with me." He looked curiously at the small pile of boxes accumulating at her feet. "Why take the hearts? I doubt it's for sentimentality's sake - you don't seem the type."

"All in good time. Are you ready to do your part?"

"Of course," he smirked, tucking his hands - well, _hand_ - into the blacksmith's formless robes. "Was there anything in particular you wanted me to find out?" While picking the brains of the princess and her daughter would undoubtedly go off without a hitch - those selfless innocent types were always the least suspicious - it might be helpful to have some direction to go in. He'd hate to leave their source of intelligence here in the Forest and truding on into the unknown without whatever piece of infomation the sorceress was looking for. More importantly, _Cora_ would hate it, and Hook would be the one to pay the price for it. The unfortunate truth of dealing with someone who was indesputably more powerful than you were was you were always at fault when something went wrong. Better to cover his ass as much as possible.

"Just a general idea about the world. We'll be able to find out what we need to when we get there. You mentioned you had friends who were taken with the curse?"

"My crew, yes." Provided they hadn't gotten themselves into trouble, as they were apt to do. Although they were more likely to be frequenting the local tavern, if one existed, than noticing much about the comings and goings of their surroundings. Though they were invaluable in the smooth sailing of the _Roger_, he had little faith in whatever other capabilities they might have had - with the exception of Mr. Smee, who had survived well enough on his own before falling in with their happy little family. But, he didn't particularly feel the need to share his doubts with Cora at present. As far as he was concerned, as soon as he got to Storybrooke and the sorceress was deprived of her powers - and thus also her authority - he would be done with her and on to more pressing matters.

He glanced briefly back at the pile of bodies around him, supressing the urge to frown in the presence of the "Queen of Hearts," so aptly named. Perhaps when they got to the world without magic he'd settle the score with her after he was done with his crocodile.

For now, however, all there was for him to do was wait - and after three hundred years, Hook considered himself something of an expert at watiting.

* * *

Nyx casually strode into the pawn shop, hands tucked safely in her pockets and hood pulled up against the chill from outside. It had only been a few days since meeting Bryan, and already the basement of the Hole had been transformed into a suitable meeting area. As it turned out, her Second's fears had been unfounded - every morning familiar faces streamed steadily down the stairs, eager to get back in the game. Even more so, they were eager to help, which was what the Guildmaster had been counting on.

The "family reunion," so to speak, certainly contributed to her current sunny mood as she smiled disarmingly at the man behind the counter and his lovely companion, though neither looked particularly pleased to see her. She recieved only an encouraging scowl from the man and a startlingly curious expression from the woman as she entered.

"Thief," he said simply, his obvious dislike of her seeping heavily into his tone.

"Imp," she shrugged. "Nice to see you again. The curse, it seems, has done wonders for your complexion."

"We're closed."

"Good. I didn't want to be interrupted."

The girl looked questioningly from one to the other, her strikingly blue gaze flickering between amused grey and exasperated honeyed brown. "Rumple, who is this?"

"No one important, dearest. She was just leaving."

Nyx grinned and extended a hand to the woman. "Nyx Hala. Nice to meet you. Belle, wasn't it?"

Belle smiled and went to shake her hand, pulling back as the Imp snapped harshly. "Keep your hands in your pockets, dearie. I'm not in a mood to go chasing down my things this afternoon, if you please."

She shrugged and offered an apologetic glance to Belle before slipping her hand back into her pocket, for now free of additions. "I didn't expect you to be quite so hostile, 'Rumple.' Something got your panties in a bunch."

"Unwanted visitors such as yourself tend to bring out the worst in me," he replied dryly. "Get out of my shop before I rethink my decision to let you live."

"Well, conveniently for me, I really don't think you're about to kill me in front of your lady friend - however tempted you may be. And, this time at least, I promise I come in peace."

"Get out. I'm not interested in listening to messages from your master. Run along home."

"Admitedly, I neglected to bring an olive branch - although it wasn't for a lack of trying."

"Out. Now."

"Then you're not interested at all in my proposition?"

The word 'proposition' gave him pause, as she knew it would. The Dark One had always had a weakness for striking deals, and it wasn't the first or the last time Nyx would pull out that particular card to play in their ongoing game. The flicker of interest in his eyes however was unfortunately short-lived, though it did let her know that her mission wasn't quite as hopeless as Bryan and the others would have her believe.

"'Your' proposition? Am I to believe you're now acting as a rogue element? I imagine your _'Guildmaster' _isn't going to take that very well, if stories are to be believed."

"Stories generally get their start somewhere - this case in truth. Although I don't think I really have to worry about being hunted."

"And why would that be, dearie?"

He was trying to goad her, but she was having too fun of a time to let his sneer get to her. "Well, you could say I'm rather uniquely intimate with her and her plans. We grew up together, so to speak. Might even say we were cut from the same cloth."

Realization dawned on Belle's features long before the Imp caught on - perhaps because the woman wasn't so biased against her intelligence as Rumple was. Regardless of the reason, the noblewoman's eyes lit up in triumph as she smiled. "That's probably because _you're _this 'Guildmaster.'"

"She's smart, Imp. I like her." Amusement danced in her eyes as she watched the man's mouth twist into a sneer.

"I don't care if you're the bloody Blue Fairy. I'm still not interested. There's nothing you have that I want, and even if there were I'm well aware of your knack for wriggling your way out of bargains, Thief. I'll ask you once more - and only once. Leave."

She ignored the threat in his voice and plowed on. "I'm not here to bargain, exactly. Just to talk. And you'll notice that nothing has gone missing in the past ten minutes we've been talking, so you can consider that an offer of goodwill if you want." She dropped the lightly mocking tone from her voice momentarily. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Rumplestiltskin. You have my word."

"The word of the theif of theives. How promising."

"You know my reputation far better than that."

"Sorry," Belle interrupted, confusion written plainly across her features as she looked to the man for an explanation. "What, exactly, is her reputation?"

The Dark One sighed in exasperation, and for a moment she thought he might order his lady friend to leave them to talk without any further explanation or attempt at civility. But he merely glanced at the woman, a long-suffering expression in his eyes, to be met only by a stubborn blue gaze who demanded answer, before resigning himself to speak.

"She lies, cheats, steals, backstabs, and generally causes misery and chaos wherever she goes. Her one redeming quality, however, is that she takes her promises particularly seriously."

"'Backstab' is rather a harsh word," she muttered with a slight frown. "I don't actually remember any real 'backstabbing' going on in recent history. I wouldn't say I'm particularly _loyal_ to anyone in particular - excepting the Guild, of course - but I don't exactly go out of my way to betray people."

He actually looked amused for a moment. "If you wanted to have more control over how people thought of you, you should have stuck to Snow White's example. 'Beggars can't be choosers,' I believe is the phrase."

She considered that for a moment before conceding the point. "In this case, I suppose I'll have to defer to your expert opinion on unfortunate reputations."

Ignoring the playful jibe, Rumplestiltskin's brown eyes bored into her challengingly, and Nyx was suddenly reminded how glad she was that magic in this world seemed to have some pretty significant limits. Although she was doing her best to keep up an aire of almost careless self-assurance, she would be a fool not to be wary of his power. "So you've reestablished your little gang, have you? How sweet."

She smiled, still trying to keep the mocking to a minimum even if he was being something of an ass. "Not nearly as touching as your reunion with Belle I hear - congratulations, by the way. Still, it is good to be together again."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time before you came knocking."

"You knew I would knock? That's impressive. I was still debating on that up until an hour or so ago. I did decide, as you can tell, that breaking and entering would be a bad impression."

"So would stealing. I have something you want, then."

She shrugged. "You have several things I want."

"So let's make a deal, then." The smirk on his face grew rather triumphantly. "You're going to owe me a few favors, dearie."

"Stealing from a pawn shop is far easier than stealing out of an enchanted castle, which you well know I've succeeded at several times without being caught. I imagine you can consider these 'favors' of yours paid in full by the simple fact I'm asking nicely."

He glared.

"But in any case, that wasn't what I was here to talk about."

"Then talk, Thief."

"You keep saying that like it's an insult," she frowned. "I came to propose an alliance, of sorts."

Rumplestiltskin flat out laughed at her. "You're not nearly as powerful as you think you are, dearie."

She grinned. "No, I'm not - generally the nature of elected positions is such that the power resides within the organization rather than the individual, and we both know very well that my organization is valuable - particularly, I would think, to someone who appreciates silence and subtlety. The Guild has long since grown beyond collecting coinage, and information is something you know you're going to want controlled."

"I imagine you're going to pitch this to Regina, as well."

"I already did. There was some discussion on the definition of 'love of country' - she seemed to think it had something to do with loyalty to a reigning monarch; I tend to argue that it's more to do with loyalty to the populace. In the end, we agreed to disagree and she accepted my offer."

"At least you admit to playing both sides."

"I don't think I ever really denied it - as long as it was true, that is. There have been occassions where I've stuck to one cause or the other, but you have to promise not to tell. It would ruin that reputation we were talking about." She grinned. "So I'll give you the same terms as I've given everyone else - by the way, Charming's in on it, too. As long as things go well between us, I won't have any reason to pass anything I learn from you on to your enemies. I don't kiss and tell."

"And what guarantee would I have?" he scoffed, though she could tell already she had him. If she were honest, she'd think him an idiot if he'd refused her. "Other than the implicit threat that I'll do far worse than kill you if you cross me, of course."

She shrugged. "It's bad for business." She frowned as he turned away from her to examine something in a glass case. "Enough with games. Do you agree or don't you?"

"I'll consider it."

"Fair enough," she said as she turned back towards the door, carefully keeping the note of cautious triumph from her voice. "You know how to find me, Imp."


	3. Chapter 2

**No feedback at all? Good? Aweful? Comments on Nyx? Or Hook? Anything? Sadly, there aren't enough Hook/OC stories for me to figure out how fast to take this, so you talking to me helps me make the whole thing better. :/**

**In any case, I'm going to start jumping around a little more quickly here. First few chapters have to be kinda slow just for the sake of developing Nyx's character. I didn't want to jump straight into her coming challenges without a little bit of background. There will be more Hook action when he gets to Storybrooke, mostly because he's pretty straightforward in the Enchanted Forest and I don't want to bore you with just repeating the episodes every chapter.**

**So, without any more of me talking, here's Ch.2. :) Enjoy!**

**~ Chapter 2 ~**

_Storybrooke_

Nyx had been astounded by how much willpower it had taken to keep herself from barging in on the not-so-happy reunion scene in the toolshead behind _Game of Thorns_. When the Dark One had called her that morning reluctantly asking for her help in locating a missing Belle, she'd been concerned but happy to provide her services. The Imp still hadn't given her a difinitive answer on her proposition, but the Guildmaster couldn't help but like the man's bookworm girlfriend. The woman had a stubborn streak more impressive than Nyx's criminal record, and if she needed help the thief would see to the matter personally.

She'd caught up with her behind the library, rounding the corner just in time to watch the man in the red hat cart her off down a back alley. For a few minutes, she'd thought the man had been in for a slow, agonizing death at the end of her knife - she somehow never could quite let rape slide, despite her normally-firm anti-murder policy - before he'd continued the abduction, earning more curiosity than anything else from his silent tail. She supposed she might have been more concerned with rescuing Belle, but for now the noblewoman was in little enough danger, and Nyx wanted to konw more about what was going on here. Stopping one attack on the bookworm didn't guarantee there wouldn't be another, so she bided her time, watching carefully from the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun.

Following the sailor - his odd gait gave his profession away rather quickly - through town had been child's play. Even if Belle hadn't been fighting up a storm, he left enough of a trail behind him in muddy footprints Nyx couldn't possibly have gotten lost along the way. And when he heaved his captive into a small run down shed behind the flower shop, she'd sidled carefully over to the door to listen.

Now, after having evesdropped on Sir Maurice, or "Mo" as his more mundane counterpart was commonly known, and his happy-family moment with his daughter, she was caught between an overwhelming disgust for the former knight and admiration for Belle. Over all, the combined effect of both emotions was an angry Guildmaster slinking silently behind Red-Hat as the man made his way slowly to his car, still dragging the young woman with him.

"Ya know," she said slowly, stretching casually to lean against the wall of the narrow alley. The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled up over her face as it had been all morning, though she knew it didn't do nearly as much to conceal her as the armor she'd "misplaced" somewhere. "It's really rude to park your car like this - you're halfway up on the sidewalk. How am I supposed to walk through here?"

The sound of her voice startled the man, causing him to lose control of his captive. Nyx smireked as Belle ground her wedged heel into his foot, twisting violently away from his grasp. The sailor staggered forward to catch her again, only to be met with the cold kiss of the small steel blade at his throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You see, you've already wasted enough of my time this morning, and blood is really hard to get out of jeans. So let's play nice, hmmm?" When she could see her words had sunk in, the man's blue eyes widening in unadultered terror, she motioned for him to stand upright again.

"Please don't hurt him," Belle pleaded. The thief was amazed she was willing to protect the man after everything. Granted, he was working under orders, but he did do the dirtier part of the job. Still, Nyx wasn't going to kill him - but he didn't need to know that. She'd often found the _threat_ of pain was far more effective than the actual thing.

"That will be entirely up to him." She kept her grey gaze locked on her target.

"PPPlease don't hurt me," he stuttered, wringing his hands together. "I wasn't going to hurt her. I was just... I'm just - "

"I know what you are," she smiled. "A 'procurer of hard to find objects,' wasn't it?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Well, I think we'll get along just fine, then. Just as long as you cooperate with me. Sound reasonable?"

He nodded again.

"Good. First question. Where were you going to take her?" When he wasn't immediately forthcoming, she flashed him a chilling grin. "Don't be shy, now. We all know it wasn't a happy ending you were after. Spit it out."

"Mo wanted me to take her over the town line - make her forget."

"That slimy good for nothing bastard," she muttered, clenching her fist around the hilt of her weapon in an effort to keep herself from storming back to the flower shop and breaking her own rules. "How could someone do that to their own daughter?"

"Better than leaving her with the Dark One."

"That's highly debatable." Belle's breath whistled angrily through her nostrils behind her, and she knew she was going to have to wrap this up sooner than she wanted. "What's you name?"

"William Smee," the sailor answered, now fiddling nervously with his red cap.

"Well, Mr. Smee," she smiled, nimbly lifting his car keys from his jacket pocket, pleased he didn't make a move to stop her. "I'm going to ask you to please climb into the trunk of your car. It seems I have a few errands to run, and I'd really like to continue this conversation later. So," she gestured politely at the car as she popped the trunk open by remote. "If you wouldn't mind."

After he was snugly tucked away, she turned back to the young woman she'd rescued, pulling her phone from her pocket as she folded her knife away in its place. "You alright?"

"Yes," the woman smiled, though she didn't meet the theif's concerned gaze. "I'm fine. I just... I wish he could understand..." She glanced back at the flower shop, the familiar bitter pain of betrayal shining in her eyes.

"No one is ever going to understand - not completely, anyway." She let herself be sincere for once. There was something about Belle that compelled her to be genuine - that wanted to be trusted. "But it's not about whether or not they get it. It's about whether or not _you_ get it."

A thoughtful expression crossed the noblewoman's face as Nyx dialed the Imp's cell. Considering his girlfriend, as far as he knew, was still missing, he couldn't be bothered to answer. "Hey, found her. She's safe. Come find me when you're done whatever it is you're trying to do. Probably be at Granny's."

"You know," Belle smiled as the thief hung up the phone. "You're not really what he said you were - so terrible, I mean."

Nyx grimaced. "I'm not exactly sunshine and rainbows either."

"I don't think anyone is, really."

The thief laughed, then. She really did enjoy being around Belle. "You haven't been spending enough time around Snow White, then. Come on," she grinned, unlocking Smee's car. "I'll take you to Granny's."

* * *

_Enchanted Forest_

Now that he wasn't in immediate danger of being torn limb from limb by overly enthusiastic, hungry ogres, Hook actually found himself in reasonably good spirits. He was still wearing the blacksmith's rags; he was still tied up, hand to wrist; and the four women currently following him through the Enchanted Forest still weren't particularly fond or trusting of him. But he was also still on his way to Storybrooke. He was, at the very least temporarily, free of Cora. _And_, because the most important quality of his day was worth mentioning twice, he wasn't being eaten by ogres.

He could hear them muttering quietly to each other as they walked, and he knew they were deciding whether or not they could trust him, but he decided it didn't really matter. If Cora came looking for him before he managed to leave this land he would tell her he did what was necessary to survive. The sorceress was well aware of the fact he held his own skin in higher regard than her mission - in fact, she'd used it against him often enough neither of them would likely forget it. She wouldn't be happy with it, but he could live with that.

And if by some miracle his current companions actually lived up to their end of the bargain, then he would get his revenge without having to worry about the Queen of Hearts's inevitable betrayal hanging over his head the whole way.

All in all, things were looking up.

_Way up_. The beanstalk loomed ominously up ahead. "We'll find the compass just up over that ridge," he announced cheerily, glancing over his shoulder at the four solemn-looking females trudging along behind him. He stopped at the edge of the treeline to look at their destination. It was terrifying, really. But all the same he looked forward to that treacherous climb.

"Let me guess," Emma commented drily, pulling up beside him less than enthusiastically. "It's up there."

"Oh yeah," he smiled.

"So how do we get it?"

Ah, once again he was moderatly important to them as long as he knew something about what was ahead - although the thought of what they were to face at the top had given him momentary pause. He'd figured that would be where Cora would have betrayed him - in the land of the giants. She'd likely have left him to battle it out against the monster while she snatched up the compass, escaping to travel to the land without magic before he was able to follow - provided he'd have survived, of course. Yes, his prospects were definitely improved with present company.

"It's not the climb you have to worry about so much as the giant at the top," he provided, trying to curb his enthusiasm in light of what was sure to be a more challenging adventure.

Without further conversation, Swan pushed ahead out of the woods, leaving the brooding Imperial Soldier to prod the pirate forcefully in the back with the tip of her sword. He stumbled a little, but managed to keep his balance. He'd been in similar situations enough times to not take the warrior's obvious dislike of him personally. In all reality, although he would have appreciated the benefit of the doubt as far as his intentions were concerned, they weren't being all that unfair. Besides, this wasn't going to last long. He'd prove himself by helping them get the compass, and they'd all be on their merry little way.

It would be a bit of a walk to the base of the beanstalk, but he had plenty to keep him entertained - namely, figuring out who he wanted most to make the climb with him.

* * *

_Storybrooke_

Smee gratefully breathed in the first breath of fresh air he'd had in hours as the lid of the trunk popped open. Oddly enough, the first thing he noticed wasn't his captor standing over him, or even the forest foliage indicating he was at the edge of town. Instead, his gaze went almost immediately to the night sky, smiling slightly at the crystal clear constellations sparkling brilliantly above him. His life on dry land had never afforded much opportunity to look at the stars, and at first he'd hated the open sky when he was at sea. It had seemed at the time as if that infinite space had been taunting him - he'd been caught, and though his existence had been spared, the life he'd known was long gone.

The Captain had been the one who'd taught him the subtle art of stargazing one night in Neverland. As long as Smee had known him, the man had never been one to sleep well during the dark hours of the night and often wandered around deck, talking quietly with whoever happened to be on watch - which more often than not seemed to be the thief-turned-sailor that was the newest addition to his crew. It was in those small, quiet hours he'd grown fond of his captain, and of the new life he'd found himself enjoying almost in spite of himself.

They'd grown close enough after a few years that Smee was not only relieved of his duties as Night Watchman, but was promoted to the long-vacant position of First Mate and Quatermaster. It had been more of a formality than anything else, as Hook rarely was in need of anyone to substitute for him and typically gave his orders directly to the crew. Still, it had been a gesture of trust, and Smee would never dare forget it. His Captain. His mentor. His best friend.

The moon was beginning to sink towards the opposite horizon, and he guessed it was probably close to being four in the morning, which meant he'd been locked in a trunk for close to thirteen hours. Luckily, the small compartment was well ventilated thanks to the small door that led into the back seat of the car, and his captor had kindly left the windows rolled down on the condition he kept his mouth shut.

Normally, he would have ignored her and yelled for help from passerby. The woman had reminded him, however, that the Dark One would likely be none too pleased to find out who exactly had kidnapped Belle. On top of that, she'd been true to her word and hadn't killed him yet, so he might as well wait and see how this played out.

His captor smiled down at him apologetically before offering her hand to help him out of the trunk. Smee appreciated the gesture, but the woman was so small he couldn't see how she could possibly help. He was more likely to knock her over that way than make it out of the car, so he shook his head and slid to the ground none too gracefully.

"Sorry for the wait," she offered, and Smee couldn't quite help the small huff of irritation that escaped him. "I had to ditch an angry Rumplestiltskin and set Belle up at Granny's."

"I thought you were working for the Dark One," he grumbled warily. Now that he was standing - and not worried about having his throat slit in a back alley - he could see the woman more clearly. She couldn't have been much more than five feet tall, though the air of conficence surrounding her made up for what she lacked in height. Her pale grey eyes twinkled in amusement as she tucked her small hands into the pockets of a brown leather jacket, zipped up against the growing chill in the air. Her short hair framed her face in loose curls, a dark auburn color that shone gently in the moonlight. She was pretty enough, he supposed; although the slight smudges of dirt on her grey shirt and jeans, as well as on the exposed skin of her face, told him well enough that she didn't much care about her appearance.

"Not exactly," she grinned. "I don't really work for anyone - or maybe I work for _everyone_, depending on how you look at it. Either way, you can consider me something of a neutral party - more or less. Much like yourself, it seems."

"Who are you?" He adjusted his hat anxiously, trying to sound more confident than he was. Alone at the edge of town with some shadowy character who may or may not be working with his Captain's mortal enemy and who may or may not still decide to kill him at any given moment, he supposed he should be proud of himself for even trying to keep up a brave front. Gods knew he didn't exactly have the strongest backbone even at the best of times.

"Nyx Hala," she smiled disarmingly. "I'm the Guildmaster for the Thieve's Guild.

Now that _was_ interesting. Before Neverland, he'd briefly been a member of the Guild, but had quickly become frustrated with the organization's lack of vision. They'd limited themselves to picking pockets and petty theft, only occassionally branching out into more dangerous enterprises such as burglary or hijacking. That had been nearly three centuries ago, however. It seemed that things had changed.

"And what do you want with me?"

Nyx shrugged. "To offer you a job. I suspect by now Belle has probably told ol' Rumple the part you had to play in this afternoon's excitement, which means starting tomorrow he'll probably have it out for you. I wouldn't bet very highly on your odds of survival on your own, and I am willing to help."

"Why?"

"You find diffuclt to find things. So do we. Although I was less than impressed with your performance today, I did a little bit of poking around earlier and managed to talk to a number of other people you've 'helped' in the past few weeks, and I believe you'd be an asset to the Guild."

"And you'd stand against the Dark One for me?" That sounded a little too good to be true.

"My Guild is my family, and the Imp won't risk losing the services we provide by threatening my family - and neither will anyone else, by the way, if they know what's good for them. I've only taken the Guild to 'war' once, and I can guarantee neither Regina or Rumplestiltskin will cross the lines I've drawn for them. As a member of the Guild, you won't be touched as long as I say so."

She paused for a moment, letting that sink in. The Captain was gone - Smee hadn't seen him in Storybrooke _ever_ as far as he could remember - and his crew was in relative chaos. It wouldn't hurt to be part of a 'family' for a while.

"And you won't force me to work for the Dark One?" There was no way he could bring himself to that level of a betrayal.

"I won't lie to you, Mr. Smee. I will ask you to do things that are dangerous - life-threateningly so - and against your better judgement. But you will always be allowed to say 'no.' I don't force my Guild to do things against their will. If you don't want to deal with the Imp, I won't ask you to."

"Fair enough."

"Is that a 'yes' then?"

He smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks. It would be good to have something to do. "Yes."


	4. Chapter 3

**Thank you to xOffToThePensieveWeGox and NatalyaEnkou for the feedback! I really appreciate it. **

**I know there are a few spelling/grammar errors, but I'm currently working without a spell-check function on my word processor (new computer + poor starving college student = no microsoft office for now). If you let me know the things you catch, though, I'm more than happy to go back and fix them. **

**Without further delay, Chapter Three :)**

* * *

_Storybrooke_

Within following weeks, the addition of Mr. Smee to their little gang quickly proved to have some rather startling consequences. The pirate had fit in spectacularly well at the _Hole_ and was more than eager to have something useful to do with himself - a trait which did a lot to help him make friends. Even Nyx couldn't deny the man had an impressive knack for his work, and since he'd arrived they'd cut the posters in town square down by over half. Not all the stories had happy endings though, and the Guild became something of a home for lost children on top of everything else.

If Nyx had to pick a fault in her new friend, however, it would have been his amazing inability to keep his mouth shut. As a result, she woke up one morning to find a full crew of bored-to-tears pirates waiting for her on her front doorstep, begging for work.

Having grown up in a small city nestled in an only slightly larger valley, Nyx hadn't really had much experience with their sea-faring cousins, but she couldn't help but grow fond of them. Having them around required a few adjustments - not to mention a few black eyes for both compromising parties. By the end of the first week, the brawling petered off and life seemed to settle down a little, at least within the Guild. Storybrooke itself, it seemed, was becoming more dangerous by the day - what with werewolves, murder investigations, and the dead returning to walk among the living. And considering the number of children Nyx was suddenly finding in her care, who were all woefully unprepared to wander the unassuming streets of Maine alone, she finally let Justin, her resident swordsmaster, start up that training program he'd always wanted.

She hadn't really been surprised when young Henry Mills, all eager smiles and bright hazel eyes, had started showing up to Justin's little after school sessions. The boy had easily wormed his way into everyone's hearts and had a gift for diffusing potentially messy situations, which was invaluable when the thieves and the pirates inevitably argued over the best fighting style to teach. If he hadn't been royalty, Nyx would have had high hopes for the boy's budding career as a con artist.

What _had_ surprised her, nearly to the point of having her mouth hang open even days after the initial suggestion, was Prince Charming's offer to contribute. Not only that, but the Queen and Rumpelstiltskin had both also given their endorsement for the endeavor, although Regina had grumbled briefly about her son spending so much time around Nyx's "band of low-life degenerates." But after the incident at the stables, it seemed as if everyone recognized the need for the townspeople, particularly the younger, more impressionable ones, to learn something about defending themselves.

So, the sailors taught knot-tying and tracking - the latter skill apparently learned from their time in Neverland - while Justin, Bryan, and Charming tried to compromise on how to teach combat. Nyx wound up with basic medicine, surprisingly enough with Regina's help, as well as climbing and the art of stealth. Though everyone, adults included, seemed to enjoy the time spent in the woods at the edge of town - there hadn't been any buildings large enough to accommodate so many people jumping around and sweating everywhere - they all agreed that the most exciting part of the day was the hour or so of story time that came just as the sun was starting to go down.

It seemed that the least dangerous adventure they'd been on, since she'd gotten the Guild up and running again at least, was the return of Snow White and Emma, not even two days ago. While Nyx and the princess got along well enough, the proof of their strange fondness for each other sitting on the thief's desk in the form of a party invitation, she had been almost more excited for Charming to wake the hell up. The kids had complained for days over the Prince's absence, and the Guildmaster had had enough of the whining. She understood the need for the man to go under the sleeping curse, but the whole thing had been terribly inconvenient and had left Henry following her around like a lost puppy when he couldn't be around Regina.

Admittedly, she'd had some mixed feelings about what had happened at the well. She'd put a lot of effort into building up Snow's power before the curse, and although she hadn't really had any opportunity to spend time with Emma she didn't particularly want the woman dead. Then again, she couldn't think of anything worse than having Cora appear in Storybrooke. Although she'd been fairly young the last time she'd encountered the sorceress, Regina's mother had left a lasting impression and had been one of the many driving forces leading to her father's execution. Henry's faith in his mother had been inspring, but she still didn't feel any need to apologize for supporting the decision to block off the portal - and she was still breathing long sighs of relief that everything had turned out well.

Nyx had debated long and hard about going to the party, but eventually had forced herself to trudge down to Granny's with a platter of bar snacks balanced on her arm, compliments of the Twins. She was late, of course, and hadn't felt the need to change out of her customary jeans and grey t-shirt, but she knew Snow would care only that she'd shown up for a little while, if only to hover at the edge of the crowd. She'd always been something of a misfit in the princess's little band of well-meaning rebels, always been more a part of the shadows than the others, and while the dwarves and Red mostly managed to tolerate her presence it was had been obvious from the start that Nyx made them uncomfortable. But Snow White had long been a faithful friend, and the Guildmaster without fail managed to convince herself to show up to whatever events the princess invited her to.

This time was no different. She toasted the return of Snow and Emma, laughed lightly at the Prince's jokes, and then faded to the background as she'd always done. It wasn't until the arrival of the Queen that she felt that there was any hope of finding the evening at all entertaining.

"Sorry I'm late," Regina smiled, the mouth-watering aroma of fresh lasagna following her through the door.

The dwarves, namely Grumpy, were less than pleased to see her, as was evident by the abrupt repurposing of a kitchen knife into a brandished weapon. "What's _she_ doing here?"

Apparently, thieves were more or less suitable company, but reformed tyrants were not. Nyx found the whole thing rather amusing, and couldn't keep the small smile from her lips. If she were honest, had she not spent so much time with the woman in past weeks, which had allowed her to see first hand how hard she was trying to win the love of her son, the thief would probably be equally as appalled by her presence. As it was, she smiled and lifted her half-full mug in mock salute from across the room, earning a grateful half-smile from the dark-haired woman.

Even if Regina still wasn't the best company, she could cook circles around the rest of Storybrooke. If nothing else, the Queen's lasagna would be worth hanging around the dwarves for a while.

"I invited her," the sheriff retorted quickly. Nyx glanced at Emma with a newfound respect even as Snow and Charming pulled their daughter away to have a brief chat. The thief wasn't really interested in what they had to say, so began to eavesdrop on other conversations, as was her habit during these parties. Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe how she felt under the scrutiny of such blameless creatures as Jimminy Cricket and Sneezy, but she kept it to herself and nursed the mug in her hands, living vicariously through the social encounters happening around her.

"I made lasagna," Regina was saying to Grumpy.

"What's the secret ingredient - poison?"

"Red pepper flakes." There was a momentary pause as the Queen decided how best to react, and Nyx couldn't suppress the small laugh that escaped at the rest of her answer. "Gives it some _kick_."

It didn't take long for their little party to section themselves off into cliques, which naturally left the two least-liked people in the room to fend for themselves. Bored, and in danger of picking up and going home, herself, Nyx pilfered a bottle of wine and a glass from Granny's stash behind the register and slid into the booth across from her fellow loner, refilling the small cup in front of the older woman with something a little stronger than tea.

"I'm assuming you're walking home," she supplied at the woman's suspicious glare.

After a moment, Regina succumbed and sipped the wine from her teacup. "Thought you'd stopped with the beer."

She shrugged. "Dwarves bring out the worst in me, and I can't let you drink alone, now can I?" She took a small drink from her own glass. "I hate these things."

"Oh really," she scoffed. "Don't tell me you're now not getting along with Snow White and company."

"No, we get along well enough. She just thinks if she gets me out into society enough I'll suddenly reform my somewhat questionable morals and share her overly sunny outlook on life."

"So how do you do it?" There was an almost eager light in Regina's eyes, and, glancing over at Henry, Nyx thought she knew how it got there. "How do you compromise between the way you live and what your friends want you to do?"

She shrugged. "I don't. The way I see it, no one's entirely good or entirely evil - which means everything we do has elements of both. I deprive people of their hard-earned valuables, which is something that can be considered evil. But I also use that wealth to protect and care for the general populace, which might be considered good. Snow was willing to put aside the 'evil' aspect of my life so that her people might more easily benefit from the 'good.'"

"The 'good' in this case defeating 'the Evil Queen.'" The accusation was not lost on the Guildmaster.

"You had your reasons for doing what you did. They just happened to be at odds with mine. It wasn't personal - I actually kinda like you when you're not killing off my clients."

"Well, you'd be the first then."

"The second, I think," she smiled gently, looking pointedly over at the young boy guzzling down root beer with the dwarves.

"I can change," Regina said quietly after a moment, staring down into the dark red liquid in her cup. "For him, I can change."

"I think getting over the vengeance thing would probably be change enough, you know. Giving up magic might be a little too much to handle right off the bat - and magic in and of itself isn't 'evil.'"

She narrowed her dark gaze sharply at her drinking companion. "How do you know I was giving up magic?"

Nyx shrugged. "I stole your file from Dr. Hopper's office - once again, nothing personal. I steal a lot of files from the Cricket. I've found collecting information is the best way of protecting my assets."

"Through what - _blackmail?"_

"No, not exactly." The thief grew serious. "There are a lot of people in this town that want to hurt you, Regina. I read your file for the same reason I read Henry's and the Imp's and Prince Charming's - so I can _prevent_ these little plots for retribution that keep cropping up from doing any real damage. You accepted my offer of an alliance, and as long as life continues peacefully on in Storybrooke you have nothing to fear from me, especially something as time-consuming and messy as 'blackmail.' I don't pursue power for the sake of power - which is one of the reasons I _have_ power."

She still looked moderately unconvinced.

"Look, stealing your file is some pretty minor damage. We both well know how much dirt I could dig out of your crypt if I really wanted to - although admittedly that's an assumption on my part. I haven't been down there since the curse ended."

"You still have a whole Guild to do your dirty work for you. I'm not fool enough to believe you've left my collection untouched all this time."

Nyx grinned. "You should. I always dealt with you and the Dark One personally if I wanted something. I don't particularly like ordering people to risk almost certain death and dismemberment for something I wanted. If I decide to go looking, you can be sure I'll do my own 'dirty work.'"

The thief's phone vibrated insistently from her pocket, drawing her attention away from the conversation. "On that note, I should probably take off. Bryan's been nagging me about organizing our records since this morning and I promised to help him tonight." She paused, hitting the "reject call" button on the screen before standing offering Regina the rest of the wine. "We're having a party tomorrow night at the _Hole_ if you wanted to come. Nothing as awkward as this, and there'll probably be significantly more alcohol involved - which I'm not entirely sure is a good thing. Still, you're welcome to come if you want."

Her majesty gave a half-hearted grimace in response. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself." Nyx shrugged on her jacket and waved a brief goodbye to Snow from across the room. "Consider it a standing invitation, though. You're always welcome around the Guild." She flashed the woman a grin, half-teasing. "As long as you bring lasagna, of course."

* * *

Scouting out Storybrooke with Cora turned out to be rather uneventful, not to mention highly disappointing. He'd expected the land without magic to be a grand place, not dissimilar from other lands he'd visited that valued the virtues of the mind over mysticism. But the brick and slatted buildings were altogether droll, much like the weather. Although the little motorized carriages everyone seemed to be using were mildly fascinating.

The roads might be paved and well-traveled, but the pair quickly discovered that the rooftops were still left abandoned, aside from a few rodents and pigeons. And so they wandered from building to building, sometimes with the help of Cora's magic to traverse the gaps in between, passing Hook's spyglass back and forth. After what seemed like hours, they finally came across one of their two targets - Regina strode purposefully out the doors of an establishment titled "Granny's" with her hands stuffed firmly in the pockets of a black coat.

Within moments, the Swan girl emerged after her and the two had something of a tense conversation, which ended with her Majesty the Queen marching solemnly down the street, presumably towards home.

"Well," he asked, almost morbidly curious. "Is she broken?"

He wasn't altogether sure how he felt about Cora's relationship with her daughter, though he knew in all reality it wasn't his business. He thought it was strange, at the very least, how two people who claimed to love each other could intentionally do so much damage to one another. The queen had loved her mother, and so had ordered the woman's death. The sorceress wanted a happy family reunion, and so proceeded to make her daughter as "receptive" as possible to her presence - apparently translated as making the poor woman as miserable as possible. But as long as it worked and Cora did as she promised to help him exact his vengeance, he couldn't complain. His own history with "families" hadn't been entirely spotless, either.

"Not yet," his companion replied thoughtfully. He knew enough to be slightly apprehensive when Cora sounded thoughtful. It didn't usually end well for those involved.

Glancing down at the Queen again, he supposed that must be a familial trait.

"So what's your plan?" He stowed his spyglass away in his coat, always within easy reach, even as he cocked an eyebrow in the woman's direction. "I'm making the assumption that you have one, of course."

"Don't be so impatient, Hook. Enjoy the moment."

The eyebrow remained raised. "The land without magic now _has_ magic, which has made my quest for retribution all but impossible for the moment until you've succeeded well enough in your own ends to help me achieve mine. I've waited three decades to have that reptile dangling off the end of my hook, and every time I think I'm close he somehow manages to still slip away. You'll forgive me, dearest Cora, if I'd like to get things moving before I once again lose my opportunity."

Oddly enough, that earned him a laugh, which did little to nothing to lighten his rotten mood.

"My, my Captain. Your Crocodile sounds more like a 'codfish.'"

He really shouldn't have been surprised she knew of Pan's less-than-affectionate nickname for him, but he scowled at her just the same.

'But you needn't worry. My daughter would undoubtedly design her own downfall in time, but for your sake I'll happily speed up the process. Meet me back at the ship tomorrow at midnight and I'll bring you good news. In the meantime, I believe you have a crew to find." With a smile and a puff of purple smoke, Cora vanished, leaving an irritated pirate captain stranded on the roof with no obvious way down.

Rolling his eyes and breathing a heavy sigh of barely suppressed frustration, he began searching the outer wall of the structure for a drainpipe or other such useful fixture that would let him reach the ground without unnecessary injury. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could use effectively one-handed, so he took a running start and leapt to the adjacent rooftop, which was conveniently equipped with a black metal staircase leading into a back alley.

He supposed he could have started looking for them now, but there was plenty of time between tonight and tomorrow and Cora had left him in sore need of rum, which he had uncharacteristically forgotten in the hold of the _Jolly Roger_. So, he trudged home, sticking close to the shadows and doing his best to avoid getting trampled by the horseless carriages. The damned things seemed to be more trouble than they were worth, as far as he could tell. This Storybrooke really wasn't big enough to warrant riding a horse, let alone a carriage.

He debated the necessity for the contraptions the rest of the way back to the docks, deciding only as he slipped into his cabin that it must have something to do with the display of wealth. Affluence had always seemed to be the mother of wasteful habits.

* * *

When the time for their little party had finally rolled around, Nyx had taken her place behind the bar and prepared herself for the coming onslaught of drink orders and spilled alcohol. Her thieves and pirates had been working so hard for her she thought a slight role reversal was appropriate. Tonight she'd be working for them. Of course, it helped that the Twins were paying her handsomely, as they always did, for her bartending.

It didn't take long for the music to start, and with it came the gambling. She was reminded briefly of the story about the mouse and the cookie, and found herself smirking at her own rendition, "If You Give a Rogue a Beer."

She was a little disappointed when Regina didn't show up, though she couldn't say she was surprised. After her argument with the Cricket, the woman had been a bit out of sorts, at least as far as Nyx could tell. She hadn't really _approached_ the Queen about it, but she'd been keeping tabs as she always was.

The night wore on. Pirates drank and gambled. Thieves drank and gambled with them. And the children had long ago gone downstairs to gorge themselves on soda, chips, and video games for the night, happy there was no school in the morning. All in all, things were going smoothly.

Until, that is, they had an unexpected guest.

From her position leaning against the business side of the bar, she could quite clearly see the darkened glass of the double door entryway at the far end of one set of pool tables, and as they opened to let the man slip inside, she was instantly intrigued. Smee had told enough stories over the past few weeks for Nyx to be able to recognize him instantly. Killian Jones, the dreaded and respected captain of the _Jolly Roger_.

The hook, she thought, was far more impressive in person, even with Smee's enthusiastic embellishments in his tales. It did not, in fact, gleam red with the blood it had spilled. Nor did it cast reflections of glittering starlight on the ground as he walked. Nevertheless, it was likely his most captivating feature - so naturally Nyx did her best to ignore it lest she miss other potentially important details.

She couldn't help but grin at her pirates' drunken, ecstatic cheer of welcome for their captain, though she found herself mildly suspicious of his sudden appearance. Smee had said he hadn't seen him in Storybrooke before, which meant either that the transparent quartermaster had been lying to her - highly doubtful - or that there was some game going on here she needed to be aware of. But she'd adopted his crew, so she supposed she couldn't well kick their captain out on his ass.

There was a solid ten minutes of their happy little reunion scene, complete with spilled beer, back patting, and manly embraces, before they sat the man down at a table with her red-hatted sailor.

"Wench!" he called, still grinning at his men. It took Nyx a moment to realize he meant her. "Bring me an ale!"

She smirked and put a finger to her lips as Smee and a few of the others glanced at her apprehensively. No, the pirate captain had obviously not been living in modern Maine if his manners still included the term "wench." She couldn't really fault him for it, though. She was, after all, playing the barmaid for the moment, and it had been a harmless enough term in the Enchanted Forest to still pass as being moderately "polite." Or, at least, it wasn't blatantly "impolite," which was close enough to the same thing as far as she was concerned.

Either way, she was determined to have a bit of fun with the situation.

* * *

Surprisingly, it had taken Hook most of the day to find any of his crew. By the time he'd finally spotted Gibbs, his bo'sun's sandy blonde mop of hair sticking out from amongst a small group headed back from the edge of town, the sun had already begun to sink low in the sky. He hadn't dared approach the man out in the open, but as the rest of his crew steadily trickled in after him, the pirate captain started to smile in anticipation.

Conveniently, they were all heading to the same place, waltzing in comfortably to what looked to be a tavern named _The Rabbit Hole_. He supposed the establishment's name meant that Wonderland had not been as exempt from the Queen's curse as Cora had thought, and he wondered briefly who else might be lurking around from lands other than the Enchanted Forest. It would be terribly inconvenient to run into Pan and the Lost Ones in such a little town. He hadn't exactly left Neverland on cordial terms, and such a reunion would surely ruin the 'element of surprise' Cora had wanted so much to preserve.

Still, he knew he had nothing to fear from his own men, so he entered the bar an hour or so after the sun had gone down with no little to no attempt at stealth. It would have been useless to try and sneak anyway seeing as soon as they laid eyes on him a raucous cheer erupted from the crowd. There were others in the room, of course, but no one seemed to really pay him any mind, so he let himself relax a little, for once simply enjoying the company of his long-absent friends. He greeted each of his lads by name as he always had - he'd always made a point of knowing his crew personally. In return for the effort, he'd never had any doubt of the men's loyalty to him. Every last one of them was willing to die on his whim should he call for it, though they all knew he never would but in the direst of circumstances. They'd sailed together for three lifetimes, and that was a fact none of them - Killian included - could take lightly.

"Wench!" he called to the bar, briefly meeting the striking grey gaze of the woman behind the counter. It had been a long time since he'd been drinking with the lads, and it was hard not to slip into old mannerisms. He caught himself grinning unashamedly ear to ear as he found a seat across from Smee. "Bring me an ale."

The barmaid complied readily, thoughtfully bringing another round for his crew as well. He flashed her a grin in thanks, noting the easy familiarity with which she navigated through the crowd, fondly chastising and smacking a few turned heads as she went. Honestly, though, he didn't pay her much attention until the men went back to their highly modified, drunken game of dice. Smee seemed to be the only one not too inebriated for conversation - the man had only gone through one mug of ale for the others' three thus far.

"So, old friend," Hook smiled. "Tell me of your adventures in this Storybrooke. It would seem I've been rather out of touch."

"Not much to tell, really," he shrugged. "The curse broke about a month and a half ago. Before that, most of us worked at the docks. Mostly we've all been trying to keep busy since then - no one leaves town, by land or by sea, so working on the waterfront wasn't really very interesting."

"I take it you've reverted back to old habits, then?"

"In a sense. Everyone lost loved ones during the curse - most of their possessions, too, but everyone knows those are in Mr. Gold's pawn shop. We've been trying to get people back together."

"How terribly altruistic of you, Mr. Smee," he teased. "I'd say you've gone soft."

"It pays well," the man protested, jumping to defend himself. "On top of that, we're landlocked indefinitely. The people here weren't overly fond of pirates wandering around, but as long as we're being helpful - "

Hook laughed and held up his hand in mock surrender. "At ease, Smee. I don't fault you. I'm actually rather glad you've been playing nicely with the locals."

Smee looked almost suspicious. "Really?"

"Yes." He took a swig from his mug. "For several reasons. Admittedly, some are more selfish than others."

A look of understanding passed over his friend's features, and Killian knew there was no need to explain further. Though he'd joined the crew only after that fateful day at port, the former thief had always been more than understanding of his captain's thirst for vengeance. Hook had often wondered how much of his quartermaster's support came from the guilt he'd always felt over his involvement in Mila's death.

"You want to know about the Dark One."

"Eager as I am to mount his scaly hide to my wall, that may be a conversation for another time. Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?" At Smee's affirmative nod, he smiled and continued drinking. "For tonight, though, I'd hate to disrupt your little celebration."

As the tavern wench came around again with another pair of mugs, seeing as how his crew was now otherwise occupied, he decided it really couldn't hurt to do some shameless flirting. The woman's brownish hair hung in loose waves down to her shoulders, gently framing her pale face and lively eyes. Her clothes were simple and were not particularly feminine, although he appreciated the way her soft grey cotton shirt and rugged blue trousers hugged the curves of her athletic frame.

She smiled and turned to go back to the bar, but the captain deftly slipped his hook into the waistband of her trousers and tugged her firmly towards him. She fell into his lap with a small surprised huff. There was a brief moment when she looked as if she would hit him and escape - and of course he would have let her, never having been one to hold a woman against her will - but then she settled with a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

Admittedly, he might have been a little drunk, or else he would have noticed the sudden spike in tension throughout the bar as well as Mr. Smee's look of openmouthed horror. But he didn't notice, and instead slipped his bad arm around the wench's waist and grinned up at her as charmingly as possible.

"And who might you be, lass?"

Those grey eyes sparkled mischievously at him as a smirk tugged at her mouth. She lifted his mug to her lips and took a sip of the amber liquid within before answering vaguely. "No one important."

A half-muffled chuckle rolled through the room and she glanced conspiratorally across the table at Hook's first mate.

"Oh, I doubt that," he smirked. "Someone as _enchanting_ as yourself can't possibly be of so little consequence."

She laughed. "You're right, Mr. Smee. He is certainly a charmer. I wonder, Captain. Do you practice in front of the mirror at night, or is your cleverness all spur of the moment?"

"Ah, so my friends have been telling tales, have they? Then I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, you knowing so much of me and I without even your name."

"Hmmmm." She took another sip of his ale. "Well that's a shame, to be sure."

He grinned at the game she was playing. This was always the best part, and she quite obviously knew what she was doing. Before he could respond, however, they were rudely interrupted by a tall bear of a man glaring dangerously down at him. Killian couldn't help grinning up at him, gently taking his drink back from the woman on his lap.

"You alright, Nyx?" He was obviously addressing the wench, though he kept his hazel gaze firmly fixed on the pirate.

"Oh Bryan," she sighed over dramatically. "You've gone and given it away. I was going to make him work for that."

"'Nyx,' is it? Unusual name." He smirked up at the girl, nodding questioningly at their visitor. "A lover, perhaps?"

"A brother," she corrected. "Really, Bryan, I'm fine. I think I can handle this."

He looked unconvinced, and understandably so.

"You sure about that, love?" Killian brought her close, watching chills race across her skin as his breath tickled her neck,. "I'm no ordinary pirate, you know. I don't think you stand a chance."

"Is that so?" She smirked as she turned her head to look at him. Their faces were so close together their noses were almost touching. She glanced none too subtly down at his lips, and he knew that he had her even as she slipped her hands beneath his coat. "Unfortunately for you, I'm no ordinary 'wench.'"

He was about to close the gap, all but sealing the deal, when she abruptly pulled away and stood up, her eyes sparkling with laughter. It took him a moment to realize she was dangling his coin purse from the end of her finger.

Well, this was a first.

"Twins!" she called to the bar, throwing the small bag, which was filled painfully full of hard-stolen gold coins, casually to the identical brothers who'd taken her place bartending. "Next round's on Captain Jones, but keep the rest on my tab for the night. I'll come by and pay you tomorrow." She barely glanced around as she grabbed her coat from the back of a nearby chair and headed for the door. "The rest of you still have work to do tomorrow, so try not to kill yourselves tonight, got it?"

A collective groan went up from the already drunk crowd, and Killian tried to figure out what he'd missed here. He was sure there was some crucial piece of information that had escaped him somehow that would make the last few minutes make sense, but for the life of him he couldn't find what it was. He might have been upset, embarrassed even, to have been so definitively taken advantage of in front of his crew - and perhaps if any of them were sober enough to be paying attention, that might have been the case. As it was, he was too busy being impressed, not to mention confused, to feel the burn of humiliation too acutely.

"Bryan, you're in charge." She paused just long enough at the door to throw a grin and a wink over her shoulder at him before she disappeared into the night. "It was nice to meet you, Hook."

The Captain took a long, thorough gulp from his mug, half-glaring at an amused Smee sitting across from him. He was surprised when Bryan, now smiling good-naturedly down at him, clapped him heartily on the shoulder and took a seat at their table.

"Welcome to Storybrooke, pirate. And thanks for the drink."

For once, Hook was at a loss for words, so he decided just to keep drinking instead of trying to shoot out a decent comeback.

Unfortunately, that didn't deter Smee and his new friend from prodding him a little.

"Don't take it personally, though," the tall man continued. "Nyx likes her games - and she's the best pickpocket I've ever seen. Don't tell her that, Smee. It'll go to her head."

"I'm still missing something here, I can feel it." The pair of them merely laughed the dry tone he'd taken.

Without further jibes, they both launched into an explanation - something about thieves, guildmasters, and the shadowy underworld wandering around Storybrooke. Needless to say, Hook managed to get through another beer and a half before he felt sufficiently prepared to head back to the docks and wait for the Queen of Hearts, the missing weight of his gold a constant reminder of the Guildmaster's laughing grey eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I finished writing this chapter before Sunday's episode and have been editing it this weekend. I SO WASN'T expecting my Story Title to fall out of Hook's mouth. I got chills and giggles. :D**

**Thank you to ****NatalyaEnkou****, neen, and tSammora for the reviews! Also, to neen: You read my mind. ****J**** Flashbacks will be starting this chapter, and we will be deviating a bit from the canon plotline within the next couple chapters - although this one already has a little bit of the timeline mixed up so I could make it work with what I've got planned for Nyx - and of course for our favorite pirate. ****J**

**Enjoy! And please review!**

* * *

Nyx's phone vibrated insistently once again, nearly causing her to lose her balance at the edge of the rooftop she'd claimed for the morning. The early afternoon sun, though bright, had done little to drive the chill from the air, and the townspeople going about their lives below her were bundled up in wool coats and scarves to keep warm. The thief's jacket, however, had been discarded in a heap by the wall several hours ago, leaving her only a hooded sweatshirt in her favorite shade of grey for warmth.

She ignored the device for the moment, flexing her fingers as her boots found purchase once again on the slippery ledge. Her thieves had been texting her all morning, anxious over the activity at the Sheriff's Office. Emma and Red had found a body, apparently, and the blonde princess was keeping the deceased identity to herself - which naturally only made Storybrooke's little intelligence network that much more determined to find out.

Bryan even had begun to worry when Regina had been arrested - even more so when she'd been released. But Nyx resolutely kept her calm, knowing well that losing her head would only get her _too_ involved - and the key to a thief's survival was tied to that fine line between having something and having to _use_ it, and that extended to her skills as much as to stolen goods. So she waited and watched from a distance, escaping the relative chaos of the _Hole_ for the quiet of the rooftops, limiting her meddling to minor text-based damage control.

After twenty-eight years, her muscles at first had protested the morning's abuse. But after an hour or so of some rather basic exercises, Nyx found that her body fell into the familiar acrobatic movements with ease. She'd been able to put herself through increasingly difficult patterns throughout the morning, moving from simple summersaults and cartwheels to handsprings and flips - now on her improvised balance beam. It was amazing how much the threat of falling to her death did for her concentration.

As her phone buzzed again, Nyx swore quietly and took a look at the growing pile of messages cluttering up her inbox, scrolling through them with disinterest. Apparently she was going to have to have a chat with some of her younger recruits - what the Charming family was having for lunch today was not exactly worth notifying the Guildmaster over.

But the last line of text on the screen, accompanied by the smiling contact icon of her Second, felt like a firm punch to the gut.

_Nyx. It's Dr. Hopper._

She refused to acknowledge the sudden tumult of emotions assaulting her as she forced her fingers to type a reply.

_The Cricket's dead? Are you sure?_

She barely had to wait for a response.

_I'm sure. I'm at the morgue. I'm so sorry, sis._

Nyx paused for a moment, guilt crashing over her. If she hadn't allowed her thieves to celebrate so much last night - if they'd been out on the streets like they were every _other_ night - maybe Archie wouldn't be lying on a cold metal table down the road. Maybe she'd know for a fact why Regina had spent the morning with the sheriff. Maybe there wouldn't be so many damned missing pieces to this puzzle.

Her phone buzzed again.

_This isn't your fault. We can't stop everything._

Trust Bryan to know exactly where her thoughts had gone. He was right, of course. This wasn't the first or the last time they'd lost friends. But she couldn't let it go, just the same. Not yet.

_We got lazy. No more distractions. Let's find out what the hell happened last night._

* * *

_12 years Pre-Curse_

_Enchanted Forest_

She curled up miserably on the cold stone blocks of the cell floor, wrapping her skinny arms around herself as she cried and shivered through the tattered rags that barely covered her. Her shoulders and back broke open and bled again with every sob until the already-damp floor was splattered thoroughly with her blood. But even the stinging pain of her destroyed muscles couldn't nearly compare to the crippling ache in her heart.

She couldn't get the images out of her mind, every detail seared into her memory like a brand. The sheriff stood tall and dark on the platform in town square, reading off words she never really heard. She'd known what they meant and where they'd come from - a sentencing from the hand of Prince John, himself - but beyond that she couldn't have cared. The guards gazed at her with a mixture of disgust and pity; the gathered crowd called alternately from either mercy or blood. But Nyx had her tearful grey gaze fixed on the proud figure of her father. His hands were bound behind his back and dirt streaked down the lines of his face. They'd left him clothed in the Guild's grey, but Nyx hated it on him. Her father had rarely gone on jobs, and she'd always known him to wear a simple white shirt, the sleeves of which were almost always pushed up to his elbows so he could work.

His green eyes held none of their usual mirth as he gazed back at her sadly. They both knew what was coming. He would lose his head and she would lose a hand, both by the executioner's axe only a few feet away. The end of his life and the end of her livelihood.

She might have hoped for a rescue, but they both knew better. The Guild had no power in John's kingdom. Even if they had, they'd been _caught_. Caught thieves were a liability.

Her father's head had rolled sickeningly down the steps, his blood staining the ground, and Nyx screamed, unable to contain herself despite her promises to be brave. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

But the axe never fell on the girl, the Sheriff of Nottingham having been persuaded to spare her by the sweet voice of a young noblewoman brave enough to plead for a thief. So instead of taking her hand, he ordered the clothes torn from her body and her wrists chained to a post. Nyx had sobbed as the knotted Cat-O-Nine bit into her flesh, ripping the muscles and skin at her back and shoulders as easily as if she were made of parchment.

She cried. But she didn't beg. Her father had taught her better than that.

But if begging would have brought him back she'd have done it a thousand times over without a second thought. In the dank, dark quiet of her cell, the grief was overwhelming. All she wanted to do was crawl to the corner and die - at least then the pain would stop.

"It gets easier, you know. I promise."

Her head snapped up at the oddly soothing voice. It was soft, almost as though she'd thought the words instead of heard them. But there at the end of her nose stood the sole source of comfort in the room, taking the form of an abnormally large, green cricket in a top hat and coat, a tiny umbrella dangling from his spindly arm.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I want to help." The little bug gave a polite bow. "My name is Jiminy - Jiminy Cricket."

"You can't help me," she frowned. "You're so small."

"Even a cricket can listen," he pointed out.

She didn't know what to say about that - she didn't know what to say at all. Words seemed so pitifully inadequate. "Where did you come from?" she asked quietly, wincing as she moved to sit up a little. "Are you like a fairy?" Nyx had never seen a fairy to know for sure that he wasn't one. She'd seen plenty of crickets, though, and crickets most certainly did _not_ talk.

"Sort of." He would have smiled if he had any ability to do so. "I'm a Conscience. I help people who've lost their way - or, in your case, children who are alone."

"I'm not a child," she protested. "I'll be thirteen tomorrow."

"There's nothing wrong with being young," he said gently, and Nyx drew a shuddering breath, struggling to hold back tears. Her father used to say something similar when he'd thought she was growing up too fast. But in spite of his attempts to keep her innocence intact as long as possible, thieves typically had brutally short childhoods.

She'd almost forgotten about her birthday, and she was glad she wouldn't be around anyone to wish her well. "Congratulations on another year" seemed like a cruel joke on Fate's part. Her fingers rose almost unconsciously to where a clamshell hung from a leather cord at her throat - this year's gift from her father. It had been her mother's, and he'd been so excited to pass it on to her that he couldn't wait until the actual _day_ of her birthday.

"He wanted to take me to the sea." That's where her parents had met - in a destroyed fishing village at the coast. He'd found her mother in the wreckage and nursed her back to health. "I've never seen the sea."

* * *

_Present Day_

_Storybrooke_

Nyx popped open a window on the second story of the Mayor's house, not bothering with stealth. She knew Emma and her parents would be here in mere minutes, intent on carting the Queen off to a jail cell while they decided what to do with her. But she couldn't shake the feeling there was still something that didn't quite fit. There was too much evidence (Nyx new for a fact a fair amount of it was circumstantial considering Regina's file was sitting on her desk in the _Hole_), and the Guildmaster had been playing games with the woman for too long not to find that suspicious.

She could still hear the Cricket's voice chirping in her ear, telling her the easy way wasn't usually the right way. Granted, he probably hadn't meant her to apply the concept so liberally, but at least one of his lessons had stuck. It was easy to blame the "Evil Queen." It was easy not to get involved. It was easy - so she wasn't going to do it.

Nyx wanted answers, not a scapegoat, so she decided to take a page out of Jiminy's book and do some meddling. He wasn't about to scold her for it anytime soon, especially considering the Guildmaster was fairly sure she'd be going to Hell in the afterlife, far from the influence of the angelic little Conscience.

Regina was in the kitchen looking over recipes as the thief slid down the banister and skidded to a stop on the tile, barely pausing for breath.

"Miss Hala. I don't recall having _invited_ you into my _house_."

She didn't have the time for the witty retort that immediately sprang to mind. Instead, she grabbed the older woman's shoulders, searching her eyes for a shred of truth.

"Did you do it?" she demanded, wanting to be right. The Cricket had believed in her. Henry believed in her. That had to be worth something to the universe.

"Did I do what?"

"Don't play games, there isn't time. Did you kill Archie?"

The hurt in the woman's eyes was answer enough, but Nyx still breathed a small sigh of relief when she responded with a steely, "No."

The Guildmaster nodded in acceptance of the Queen's word before glancing at the door anxiously. "You've gotta get out of here, then."

"What are you talking about? I'm staying right here."

"Emma's coming for you. She saw you kill Archie in a dream catcher."

"What? How is that even possible?"

"She has magic. There's no time for this. Aren't you listening?"

"I'm not going to run." Nyx sighed in frustration at the stubborn glint in the Queen's gaze. "That'll only make me look more guilty."

"You already look just about as guilty as you can get," she hissed. "And when word gets out, you're gonna be a sitting duck behind those bars. You think the Charmings can - _will_ - hold off the angry mob that'll come after you?"

"And why would _you_? You'll sell me out as soon as it's your own hide on the line."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Are you kidding?"

"Will you please shut up for a second? I'm trying to help you!" Nyx took a deep breath and glared pointedly at Regina. "I need _time_. Having you in a body bag by the end of the week isn't going to help. Whoever did this did it for a reason, and they're going to come looking for you. I need your help, Regina. And you need mine."

There was a sharp and insistent rap on the front door to announce they were officially out of time. Nyx sent Regina one last pleading glance before purple smoke began to rise from the floor.

"Don't make me regret trusting you, Thief."

She smirked back, relieved. "Likewise, 'Madame Mayor.'"

The Queen vanished, and the Guildmaster took a seat at the kitchen table, ignoring the knocking at the door for the time being. She could run, to be sure. There was still plenty of time to slip through a window and out onto the streets. But she needed to find out exactly what the Sheriff's Office knew, and now was as good a time as any.

Emma, followed closely by her parents, let herself in within minutes, her mouth set into a grim line. The woman's green eyes regarded the thief with surprise, then with anger even as Snow smiled in greeting.

"Nyx." The princess's voice was kind. "What are you doing here?"

Emma answered for her. "She told Regina we were coming."

"What?" Snow looked incredulously between her daughter and her friend. "She wouldn't - "

"You did, didn't you." It wasn't a question, but Nyx answered it honestly all the same.

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"I can only guess, and I'm not really inclined to do so at the moment."

"But why?" Her old friend looked at her imploringly, brown eyes shining with the pain of betrayal.

"She killed Archie." Charming looked just as hurt as his wife, thought the Guildmaster was well aware he'd never entirely trusted her anyway.

"You sure about that?"

Emma frowned. "I saw her."

"You saw someone who _looked_ like her."

"The only one in Storybrooke with that much power is Gold, and - "

"-he was with Belle last night, I know. But we really have no idea who else is in Storybrooke, do we? For all we know, Maleficent could be wandering around causing chaos, completely unchecked. Just because we only know of two magic users hanging around doesn't mean there's only two people who could have killed the Cricket."

The three of them looked resolutely unconvinced, and Nyx couldn't really blame them. It was a good point, but a thin argument. People that powerful weren't usually very subtle, and there hadn't been any _really_ major issues in past weeks that would support the idea of another homicidal warlock running rampant. The only ground she had to stand on was Hook's appearance last night, and that was a card she couldn't play without condemning both her Guild and her pirates.

"I expected better from you. _Archie_ would have expected better."

She couldn't help wincing at that before remembering that she was actually trying to do the right thing, however backwards her methods might be. For Archie's sake, she couldn't back out of it now. So she gave Snow a tight smile and stood up calmly, trying to be as unthreatening as possible. "I guess both of us are doomed to be disappointed in each other, then, Highness. I thought I'd earned your trust by now."

She turned quietly and let Emma cuff her wrists together behind her. She may not have committed the murder, but now she was an accomplice to their all-but-convicted suspect. It was a jail cell for her - surprise, surprise.

The Sheriff didn't bother to read her her rights - Storybrooke wasn't exactly subject to the laws of the outside world, even if it was technically in Maine. There was no court of law outside the judgment of their reigning monarchs, and right now that wasn't swinging in her favor.

But as the Savior led her out to the yellow Volkswagen that doubled as a police car, she said quietly, "I hope for your sake you're right."

Nyx didn't need to be reminded of the angry mob she'd promised Regina. "Me too."

* * *

_10 Years Pre-Curse_

_Enchanted Forest_

The waves lapped gently up against the shore, the peaceful repetition a sharp contrast to the troubled mind of the young woman standing in the relative shelter of a cove. White sandstone rose high around her in a third-circle, tempering the gusting winds on the beach into a gentle salt-laced breeze. She'd been born here - her father had told the story a thousand times, describing the place in such detail she'd known it as soon as she'd seen the pale weathered cliffs beginning to rise gently out of the sand. It had taken her two years to make it there, though it was only three days' ride from the capitol city. He'd wanted to bring her there so badly, to show her a life beyond the cold marble stones and dank sewers she'd always known, if only for a moment. She thought she'd be able to feel him here.

But she felt nothing.

She barely saw the majestic expanse of ocean before her. She didn't smell the salt in the air. She couldn't hear her horse pawing impatiently at the ground not thirty paces away. In two years, her world had vanished, replaced by something darker and more painful than she could have imagined. In two years, she'd gone from a child crying in a prison cell to the youngest Guildmaster in history. She'd discovered the treacherous plot to destroy the Guild and the man who'd revealed their plans to Nottingham. Jacobs's treachery had cost her father's life - and so she'd destroyed him. She'd taken his wealth, his power, and finally his life.

A Guildmaster who'd betrayed his Guild. Was there any worse crime to be committed? His cowardice had led to countless deaths, whittling away at their little family until there was barely anything left, all but ensuring the end of the one thing he'd been sworn to protect. And thieves hadn't been the only casualties. Prince John, King George, and the sorceress Cora had used the information he'd brought them to punish the villagers and the families of anyone who dared go against them.

He'd allowed himself to become a puppet of the same authorities he'd supposedly dedicated his life and profession to subverting, all to save his own skin.

It had been unforgivable, and Nyx had treated it as such. She'd driven the blade through his throat herself, ensuring he wouldn't be able to hurt them again. And as thanks, the Guild had elected her to take his place.

She didn't want power. She was fifteen - she should be worrying about getting her first kiss, not about ensuring the safety and prosperity of fifty or so other people. She couldn't help but wonder if her father would be proud, or disappointed.

She smiled briefly as a flutter of green tugged at her peripheral vision.

"Hello, Cricket."

Through some magic or intuition, the Conscience seemed to always find her when he was needed, regardless of whether or not she wanted him there. But he always seemed to know how to get her on the right track, and it was not always gentle. More often than not, his visits often ended in unresolved arguments, leaving her struggling with questions she thought she should have answers to.

"So you killed him, then?"

She could hear the disappointment in his voice. Yes, she'd killed him. Even after he'd told her again and again the price would be too great to bear. "I had no choice."

"Vengeance is always a choice."

"It wasn't about vengeance." At least, not entirely. Some part of her _had_ wanted his death as retribution for his crimes - to pay for what he'd done to her and her father. But she'd had to kill him for reasons far beyond her own. "I had to keep my family safe. He couldn't be trusted - even if he wasn't in the Guild anymore."

"And do you feel better?"

She paused for a moment, seriously considering lying just to spite the little bug. Then she sighed in resignation. He'd already know, anyway.

"No." She felt worse, if anything.

He didn't respond, just let her sit in her admission for a while like she was a little kid looking at what she'd done wrong. He'd warned her that killing Jacobs wasn't the answer. But she still couldn't see that there'd been any way around it. Still, it had appeased that call for revenge within her, and had subsequently left her feeling just as empty and cold as if she'd done it for herself.

"What do I do now?" she asked quietly, staring at the horizon. She was lost, completely and utterly. How was she supposed to lead when she had no idea of where she was going, herself?

"You've been given power, little _Guildmaster_. What do you want to do with it?"

She gazed thoughtfully down at the inside of her left wrist, where her skin was still red from a new tattoo. They had no crowns or fine robes among them, so it had long ago become tradition for Guildmasters to mark themselves in their own fashion - usually, for whatever reason, somewhere on their left arms. Jacobs had had a full sleeve depicting various iconic scenes from their history. It had been beautiful, but ostentatious. Nyx hadn't wanted to have one at all, but at Bryan's insistence had chosen a small, simple keyhole, right where its twin might lie on a pair of manacles.

Her brother had thought the comparison odd - after all, wasn't the idea behind being a thief staying _out_ of shackles? But it was a reminder to her that her power was a responsibility, not a privilege.

"I have to protect them." Even with the traitor gone, the Guild would never be entirely safe. Such was the price of living outside the law. George, Cora, and John - among other nobles, to be sure - would still hunt them down, if only because the thieves' continued existence was an affront to their authority. No matter how hard she tried, she'd always lose people to the chopping block or the noose. And not just members of the Guild - many of them had family members and friends outside the city, and they had to be protected as well. And the villagers who couldn't defend themselves. And anyone else who wanted a life outside of what their governments would allow them.

Their monarchs were tyrants. They took what pleased them, be it gold, lives, or the beating hearts of the innocent, and called _her_ "thief."

Well, even thieves had more honor than that.

"Who?" the cricket asked, his voice gentle, yet almost challenging. Nyx was always surprised how well he knew her and how to get her going.

She smiled, meeting his mildly proud gaze as she finally let herself take in the beauty of the scenery around her. The ocean truly was as beautiful as her father had said.

"Everyone."

* * *

_Present Day_

_Storybrooke_

It had been cute, really, how Emma thought Nyx would stay put in the small, poorly constructed cell in the sheriff's office. But she had things to do and places to go - not to mention she _also_ happened to have a lock pick tucked safely away in her boot. So she'd made short work of her cage and the window and slipped back outside just as the sun was setting.

The air was colder than it had been earlier, and she realized she'd left her jacket back on the rooftop in her hurry to get involved with the murder investigation. She'd wanted to just head home - although she realized that wasn't the best place to sleep tonight considering she'd just broken out of jail - but knew she'd only regret it if she didn't go to fetch the warmest piece of clothing she owned. She was already beginning to shiver a little bit with the cold, and a night on the streets as is didn't sound particularly good to her.

So, with a resigned sigh, she started heading back through town, sticking close to the shadows to avoid prying eyes. Now that things had calmed down a little, she found her thoughts wandering back to the Cricket, the terrible ache in her chest a reminder of the day's loss. He'd invested a lot of effort in her over the years, and he was probably one of the few people Nyx fully trusted. Her life had been a series of questions and conundrums, and while thieves lived too close to the darkness to receive help from fairies, it seemed that meddling Crickets were more flexible on who they were allowed to help.

And help her he had, more times than she could count.

"_You want me to help her, then?" she asked incredulously, glaring at Jiminy - who was perched all but innocently on her shoulder. "Are you kidding?"_

"_She's different."_

"_She's a princess. She'll grow up and take back her kingdom and then I'll be in the same mess as I am now - trying to fend of an overly enthusiastic Queen who hates the Guild." She glanced down the slope at the sleeping Snow White, unimpressed with the woman's rich clothing and perfect face._

"_The Queen wants to kill her."_

"_So?"_

"_Nyx." If he'd had eyebrows, he would have raised them._

"_What?"_

_He didn't say anything - just stared at her until she gave in. "Is this some sort of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' sort of lesson? I didn't think you were quite that pragmatic, Cricket."_

"_You want to get the 'Evil' Queen off the throne? Snow White is the answer. She won't be like other Queens - she's the embodiment of purity in this land." _

_How he knew that, Nyx would have liked to know. But then, Jiminy was good at seeing those things others couldn't. After all, he thought the Thief of Thieves was a good person to hang out with. _

"_And you think that's going to help us get along?" she raised an eyebrow back at her friend. _

"_Show her you have honor, and she will treat you honorably."_

_She took a few more moments to consider the idea before swearing in irritation and sliding down the small hill to go wake up the sleeping princess. They didn't have much time - the Queen was on her way._

Nyx slid her hands silently around the drainpipe, beginning to climb. The fire escape would have been faster and easier, but it was also significantly _louder_. So she set her boots up against the brick and walked up, careful only to pull at the parts of the pipe that were bolted down, lest she accidentally rip the damned thing out of the wall. She shook her head, trying to clear it of memories she needed to forget. Her eyes were already beginning to sting with tears, and she didn't have the luxury of mourning quite yet.

She'd let herself cry when she'd caught the murderer.

As she pulled herself easily over the ledge, she froze for a moment in panic, her eyes fixed on the leather-clad back of the newest "citizen" of Storybrooke. Hook hadn't seen her yet - he looked to be a little too lost in thought to notice he suddenly wasn't alone - so she slipped easily into the shadows, trying to decide on what to do. Her jacket was on the other side of him, however, and there wasn't much chance of getting by him without him seeing. On top of that, it was too cold for her to wait him out in just a sweatshirt.

She suppressed a sigh and stood up, decision having been made for her.

* * *

Cora was late. Never mind why she wanted to meet in the middle of town rather than back at the ship. Never mind that he was itching with the need to act on what he'd learned from the Cricket (how convenient it was that the Crocodile had another weakness - and this one far more easily exploited). His needs took backseat to those of the sorceress, as always. He wasn't sure why he'd thought that would change.

Oh, right. Because this was supposed to be the land _without_ bloody magic. A sorceress without magic was just a woman - and Hook could handle women.

"Who came with you?"

He spun around at the demand, once again surprised by the grey eyes of the woman from last night. Those eyes weren't laughing now, in fact they looked closer to tears. Even with her standing upright, her hands tucked into her pockets, it was hard to find her outline in the low light. She seemed to blend so easily into the heavy shadows of the rooftop it was if she was a shadow herself.

But no, he'd seen Shadows. And this Guildmaster was still flesh and blood.

"Fancy seeing you here," he drawled with a smile, although she seemed to be less than amused. "I'll give it to you, lass. You certainly know how to leave an impression."

"Trick of the trade," was the short reply. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Not in the mood to play, love? I thought you liked games."

"I only play with people who can keep up."

Apparently drunk hadn't been the best first impression he could have made. "I assure you I'm more than capable." He moved closer, enjoying the diversion and wondering if he could make her blush. She looked to be no older than twenty-five or so, her skin still alive with the last few years of youth. And past that raw, barely contained pain in her gaze he could see that old, familiar sliver of loneliness he'd become so well acquainted with. It wasn't as acute as Emma's or even as the Lost Ones' - but it was there all the same, buried deep.

_Orphan_.

But she didn't balk. In fact, she mirrored his movements, closing the gap between them almost casually until they were mere inches apart.

"I'll ask you again, pirate. Who came to Storybrooke with you? I know you're not here alone."

"Ah, clever lass. And how are you so certain?"

"Stop deflecting."

"You're slipping, love," he breathed, knowing she could hear him quite well. He could see the small hairs on her cheek rise as his breath hit her skin. "What has you so upset?"

"Your buddy killed a friend of mine." Those grey eyes met his angrily, and he could see her control start to crack.

"Is that so?"

"Answer me. Who came with you?"

"That's a long list, darling," he smirked, letting that dark note of seduction slip into his voice. "One I'm happy to add you to, but I'm afraid I'm already busy tonight."

Ah, there was the blush - and the red color of her cheeks suited her well. From here he could see the red in her hair reflect the moonlight, as well as the speeding pulse in her neck, all without breaking that steady eye contact he was taunting her with.

"Are you seriously flirting with me?" she hissed. "You have terrible timing, you know that?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You're the one who came to find me - and now you've got me. All alone beneath the stars." His smirk grew into a grin as he watched her pulse accelerate. "What's a man to do?"

"I've never really been one for romanticism," she countered. "And you're wearing on my patience."

"In that case, I suppose I may have to postpone tonight's plans. I'd hate to leave you wanting."

"Just what I wanted to hear." He almost missed the smirk as her hand shot up to his throat, cold steel pressing into his neck. His hook caught her hand around the wrist, and he considered pulling it away - he certainly _could_. But he wanted to see what she would do.

He wasn't disappointed. Almost before he could have reacted, her foot caught one of his ankles and brought him down to his knees, causing him to reach out and catch himself. And while his free hand was busy with the ground, her own darted up to deftly unlatch his hook, twirling it between her fingers. All trace of mirth was gone from her eyes, and the tears were beginning to trickle down her face.

A sliver of guilt crept into his heart as he watched her struggle not to cry. Apparently the Cricket really did mean something to her.

She loomed over him, her face still close to his as she pressed the sharpened tip of his prosthetic against the other side of his throat. It wouldn't take much for her to kill him, though he still had his cutlass strapped to his hip and two - well_ one_, he supposed - hands free. She could move faster - all she would need was a small slip and the dagger would nick the artery. But he knew she wasn't going to kill him. For all the pain and anger in her eyes, there was no malice - no murder.

"What I _want_, Hook, are answers. Just one, in particular. Who killed the Cricket?"

There was part of him that wanted to tell her - that wanted to let her know that her friend was safe (more or less) in the hold of his ship. If all went well tomorrow, the man would be free to leave, no harm done. He'd come here to hurt Rumpelstiltskin - not her. And not the Cricket.

But the rest of him recognized they were no longer alone on the rooftop. He could clearly see Cora's blue parasol over Nyx's grey-clad shoulder, and he knew their little game was up. So he smiled charmingly and leaned a little closer to the thief's face, meeting her gaze.

"Well, darling, why don't you turn around and see for yourself?"

Realization flashed across her face so fast it would have been comical if it weren't for the barely suppressed rage that replaced it as she saw the sorceress.

"_You_," she hissed. There was a story here, and Hook was dreadfully curious about the details. If there hadn't been murder in her eyes before, it was certainly there now. Nyx looked at the woman with pure hatred

"Now, now. Is that any way to greet a queen?" Cora's overly sweet voice chided knowingly.

"I'm sure my profession speaks to my regard for authority - or lack thereof," Nyx mocked in response, her voice anything but playful. "You killed Jiminy? Why?"

"Oh, my dear girl, I didn't realize you two were so close."

"I suppose I have you to thank for our acquaintance. Out with it, witch. Why?"

He'd never heard anyone speak so coarsely to Cora - and had never known the sorceress to permit it. "He had something I wanted," the Queen replied innocently. "I should think you'd understand that."

The small noise of heartbreak that escaped the thief's throat pulled at his heartstrings, though he couldn't say for certain why. The Cricket was alive and well, and Hook was close to getting his revenge. In comparison, he shouldn't really care about the temporary grief of a woman he'd just met.

But for whatever reason he did, and watching the Queen of Hearts toy with her bothered him.

"Enough, Cora. Let the poor girl be." It was a request, and both of them knew it, though Hook wouldn't let any note of pleading slip into his gaze.

"It seems you've grown a heart, Captain. How sweet." Despite the taunt, he knew she would do as he'd asked. "You're quite right, however. I came to offer you a proposition, Guildmaster." Hook shared Nyx's surprise at the statement, and Cora looked more than pleased with herself. "I want you to work for me."

"Fat chance."

"Oh, come now. Don't be rude. You haven't even heard me out yet."

"Then talk. I'm sure Hook knows as well as I do how fond you are of your own voice."

"Your insults aren't attractive, dear."

Actually, they were, though he wasn't about to say so. He'd have thought talking back to the Queen would result in a slow, painful, horrifying death. But here Nyx was letting fly whatever came to mind, doing exactly what he'd so often _wanted_ to do - and damn it all if it wasn't hot.

"I don't give a shit."

"No, I suppose you don't, do you." Cora smiled, but continued. "As much we've been at odds in the past, you _are_ useful. And considering you've already cut deals with Rumpelstiltskin and my daughter, I thought I might offer you the same opportunity to work for me."

He glared sharply at the thief at the mention of the Dark One. She was working for _him_? She had his _crew_ working for _him_? He abruptly tried to squash any shred of sympathy he'd been nursing towards her. If that was true, she was going to get in his way - and he couldn't allow that.

Nyx had the audacity to laugh. "I work for the Guild, no one else. And while the Imp and Regina actually have the potential to benefit the Guild, which is why I've allied myself with them, _you_ do not. Powerful as you are, Cora, I'd be a fool to trust you. You'll betray us as soon as it's convenient without a second thought and then you'll destroy us to suit your own ends."

"You'd be a _fool_ to say no," the sorceress warned, and Hook had to agree. As risky an ally as she was, she was a far more dangerous enemy. Not to mention the thief had taken the same gamble with Rumpelstiltskin - she thought _he _was more trustworthy? The very idea was laughable.

"Then I'm a fool, and you have your answer." Nyx strode over to a small, dark pile by the ledge and shook the dirt off of what turned out to be the jacket he'd seen on her last night. Slowly, he put two and two together and realized she hadn't come here to find him at all. She'd come to retrieve something she'd left behind.

"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment," Cora chided, uncharacteristically patient. He'd thought she'd be more likely to rip out the thief's heart and take what she wanted rather than accept the refusal. "Don't let it be personal."

Nyx was already poised on the edge of the building, precariously close to falling. "It's_ not_ personal. If I let my business be _personal_ do you think I'd have even considered allying with your daughter? Or even the Imp? They've both done as many terrible things as _you_, if not more. But they have hearts - you don't. I'll make a deal with you, Cora. Show me you have honor, and I'll treat you honorably. Until then, we're done."

Without a backwards glance, she dropped off the side of the roof. There was a tense moment when Hook waited anxiously for a sickening splat or a cry of pain. When nothing but the sounds of the traffic below met his ears, he assumed - with a release of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding - that she must have reached the ground safely.

"That went well," he commented dryly. Cora didn't respond beyond a slight huff of annoyance.

It was only then that he remembered, with a flash of hot irritation, that Nyx still had his hook.


	6. Chapter 5

**Thank you to Emily W for reviewing. :) I wanted to have more in this chapter, but it was getting a little long so I figured I'd save it for the next one. Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Please Review!**

* * *

Nyx huffed in irritation as she continued to wander aimlessly down the deserted streets. In the early, dark hours of the morning she was free to move about as she pleased, knowing Emma, Charming, and whoever else was out looking for her were all fast asleep (she'd made a point of peeking into Snow's loft just to make sure). But that knowledge had done little to put her at ease.

She'd sent a text to Regina about an hour ago to warn her, although if the woman was in the crypt as Nyx suspected she was, she'd likely receive the message too late. She'd discovered that magic had a frustrating way of interfering with cell phone signals, and the Queen had doubtless shielded herself from unwanted guests. But the thief knew her warning didn't much matter. Having the two of them working together would be catastrophic, but it was also most likely inevitable. If Cora wanted her daughter there was little anyone could do to prevent it - Nyx wasn't even sure she could _control_ it.

Some part of her recognized she should probably be looking to the Charmings or the Imp for help. Cora was out of her league, and Nyx knew it. But she didn't have enough information to go running to either of the two remaining pillars of Storybrooke. She had no idea how Hook and Cora had come to this world. She didn't know what they wanted while they were here. She didn't know what Cora wanted with the Guild. Or who else she'd been talking to already. Or why Hook had revealed himself in the _Hole_. Or why they were working together. Or why the witch had killed Archie. Or anything else even remotely useful. She didn't even have a best guess. And she was pretty sure trying to make a plan of any kind while flying blind would do more harm than good.

And then there was the conundrum the pirate himself had presented. Nyx had turned down Cora's proposal. But Hook was working for her, and his crew would work for him, and the Guild would support their friends, and Nyx would back up the Guild. Did that mean she was also inadvertently working for Cora? Could she cut the line at Hook? Or at the pirates? Or should she cut the Guild's losses and kick them all to the curb? That was probably the smart thing to do if she were trying to cover her ass, but Cora having a small army running around town in the form of fifty-some-odd sailors didn't sound particularly appealing.

The whole thing was quickly giving her a headache.

Not for the first time that night, she found herself sorely missing the Cricket. He'd always seemed to know what to do when she couldn't see the right path.

She smiled briefly. He'd probably just tell her she was working too hard and needed to sleep.

But she couldn't sleep.

His funeral was supposed to be tomorrow - or today, rather. It was hastily put together, but they didn't really have any priests or formal avenues for burying their friends that would slow down the process. The grave digger was already busy in their little cemetery at the edge of town, and the headstone had been carved as soon as the Crickets' death had been announced.

Naturally, considering she was supposed to be in jail and all, Nyx hadn't been invited. The fact stung a little, but she more or less understood. Red, Granny, and the dwarves (especially the dwarves) had always assumed she hadn't had much interaction with the Conscience, considering she cheated and lied for a living, and helping Regina escape hadn't really helped. Snow, however, knew differently, and the princess's scorn earlier this afternoon had hurt more than Nyx was willing to admit.

She fiddled idly with Hook's namesake as she turned the corner towards Gold's shop, wondering if it would help her focus to commit a little burglary. It certainly wasn't going to help her reputation, but she'd long ago abandoned that as a lost cause. The Imp probably wasn't the wisest choice of targets she could make, but anything less dangerous wouldn't be any fun - and there were a number of people in town who'd be willing to pay handsomely for the return of their belongings.

Nyx fished her lockpicks out of her pocket as she approached the door. The shop was probably spelled against intruders, but the Guildmaster had long ago invested in a set of picks spelled against magical alarms - specifically for jobs relating to Rumpelstiltskin and the Queen, in fact.

She was just about to start when she was brought up short by a muffled _thump_ coming from someplace nearby. She narrowed her eyes and glanced around the street, immediately scanning for threats and finding none. Surely Cora wouldn't be so clumsy as to trip as she attacked her. Hook might be, but in his defense he was a sailor and was probably still adjusting to his "land legs."

_Thump._

There it was again. She smirked as the black Cadillac parked on the street seemed to shake a little. Curious, Nyx rapped gently on the trunk, grinning in amusement as someone knocked back from inside and turned her lockpicks on the car. It was a relatively simple lock and she had it open in seconds, laughing openly when she saw Rumpelstiltskin's cargo.

"Mr. Smee, you spend far too much time stuffed in the back of people's cars, you know that?" She helped him out, and the man sullenly adjusted his hat with bound hands.

"It's not funny," he protested, glancing back at his prison.

"Oh, yes it is." She grinned as she flicked open her knife and cut the rope between his wrists. "I'll have to spend some time figuring out how to escape from the inside - just for you."

"He was going to kill me," the pirate glared, visibly shaken.

"I doubt it," she replied, but frowned just the same. No one threatened her people. Dark One or not, she'd start a war if she had to to protect her own. "But what makes you say that?"

"He must know the Captain is here." The sailor rubbed his wrists anxiously. "They'll be out for blood now."

"You'd best stay out of it then," she answered seriously. She remembered the sailor's stories about the blue-eyed captain and his crocodile, and she didn't want Smee getting hurt caught between them.

The guilty flush rising to his cheeks wasn't lost on the Guildmaster. He was already involved.

She sighed to herself and climbed into the trunk, smirking a little at Smee's astounded and confused stare.

"What are you doing? We've gotta get out of here."

"I want to know what he wants with you." She shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. Who knew how long she'd have to wait on the Imp.

"But you could get hurt." There was actually genuine concern playing across the man's face. Nyx suddenly felt a surge of affection for the man - she really did like her pirates. For all their gruff exterior, the men were actually rather sweet.

"Awwwwww, Smee. I didn't know you cared so much."

He grew increasingly grave, unphased by her light jibe. "You've already done a lot for me - for us. You shouldn't have to get involved - to risk your life. This isn't your fight."

"Have a little faith, sailor. I know what I'm doing." _Sort of_. She smiled, trying to give the air of confidence. "Trust me. The Imp's had plenty of chances to kill me for a lot worse offenses than this - and he hasn't yet. I won't promise I won't be scampering back to town on four legs instead of two - but I'll be alive in any case. Just keep an eye out for any unusually intelligent rodents if I don't make it back in a few hours and make Bryan cash in on that favor from the Blue Fairy."

That earned her a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. She wasn't about to let him talk her out of it, though.

"Oh, and I almost forgot." She pulled out Hook's hook and tossed it to him, grinning mischievously as she grabbed the edge of the hatch. "Give that back to your captain when you see him, will you? I didn't get a chance to wrap it, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

His eyes narrowed briefly in mild suspicion. "I thought you wanted me not to get involved?"

"I did," she shrugged. "But I know better than to think you'd actually listen. Just be careful, Smee. I don't know how often I'll be able to bail you out."

He caught the edge of the trunk before he let her close it. "_You _be careful. The Dark One doesn't take well to surprises."

* * *

_4 Years Pre-Curse_

_Enchanted Forest_

"You're sure you want to do this?" She glanced anxiously towards her companion as he adjusted the quiver strapped to his back. She was in Guild greys, her dyed leather hood pulled up over her face. But Robin in his forest greens wouldn't blend nearly as easily with the shadows as she would.

"I have no choice. Marian needs that wand." The man's face was hard with determination.

"And she'll have it. That's not what I meant."

"I can't ask yourself to risk yourself in my stead, Nyx. Not again," he frowned. "I'm going with you."

"I thought you wanted to _lower_ the risk," she grumbled in irritation, double checking the knives she had tucked into various folds in her light leather armor. I've done this before - you haven't."

"I'm going with you," he repeated firmly, and Nyx knew better than to argue with him. She'd known the outlaw for years, happily helping him with his vendetta - although he'd never call it that - against Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham. They'd been allies on principle at first - she'd jumped at the chance to bring down the tyrant ruling over Sherwood and repay her debt to the Maid Marian, who'd saved her from the chopping block. But over time they'd grown to be fast friends, although they disagreed somewhat on the morality behind their shared profession. Robin had a hard time thinking of himself as a thief; Nyx had a hard time thinking of herself as anything else.

"Stubborn ass," she muttered, glancing up at the looming shadow of the Dark One's castle. Getting in was hard. Rumpelstiltskin had spells and traps galore littering the grounds to warn him of intruders and vengeful villagers. But getting out unnoticed - especially knowing the Imp was home - would be far harder.

"Ready?"

She glared at him. She'd been ready for the past ten minutes. "Step only where I step. Understand?" she instructed firmly. It had taken her several weeks to find the safe path up the slope, throwing stones and sticks ahead of her with each step to scout out the route. The most memorable mistake had her sprinting back down the hill with a house-sized fireball at her heels. Luckily there hadn't been anyone around at the time to notice, or else she'd likely be strung up on display along the battlements.

Without further conversation, Nyx started out, the Guildmaster leading and carefully picking out the small white stones she'd used to mark the way and Robin slowly trailing behind her. It took them nearly an hour to reach the steps of the castle, and the thief carefully pulled out her enchanted lockpicks.

"You know where it is?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she worked at the lock.

"Yes."

"Don't touch anything else. You've got about thirty seconds to get in and out before a spell will catch up on the fact I've opened the door. I'll keep watch on the stairs from here." She sent him a nervous glance. "You're sure you don't want me to do this instead?"

He nodded as the lock clicked open. "I'm sure. You ready?"

She snorted. "I've got the easy part. Are _you_ ready?"

"Yeah."

"Don't think about what happens if you get caught - that's why I'm here, right? Just focus."

"This isn't my first time, you know."

"It's your first time for anything this big."

"It's only a wand, Nyx."

"No, it's _Rumpelstiltskin's_ wand. There's a difference. You sure you're ready?" They were stalling a little, but it didn't much matter. The clock wouldn't start ticking until she opened the door.

He rolled his shoulders in preparation. "Open it up."

"Good luck, Rob." Their eyes met briefly before she let the door swing open, beginning to count under her breath.

She watched carefully as he darted inside, barely pausing as he stepped lightly into the next room. _Four. Five. Six_. Nyx kept careful count, letting her gaze flit between the grand staircase across from where she stood in the doorway and the arch Robin had slipped behind.

When she got to twenty and there was still no sign of him, she began to worry. "Rob," she hissed. "Rob, we've gotta go."

There was no answer.

_Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six._ She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his green cloak appear in the entrance way. He had the wand in his hand, the transparent glass shining eerily in the moonlight filtering in through the windows. He smiled at her in triumph, and she couldn't help but smile back. Son of a bitch had done it.

But their celebration came too soon, and Nyx's heart stopped in her chest when he tripped on the edge of the rug, his cloak fanning out on top of him.

_Shit!_

She considered darting in to help him, but before she could move Robin tossed the wand at her. They both knew he wasn't going to make it out in time.

"Get it to Marian," he demanded as the telltale glow of magic began to rise from the floor. "Nyx, go!"

"Rob," she started as she picked up the prize, but she never got to finish. A blast of hot air threw her off the front steps and onto the hill, closing the double doors in front of her. She wanted to scream in frustration, but instead she found herself running for her life, dodging the traps that had come to life on the slope.

She was breathing heavily by the time she reached the relative safety of the treeline, the wand clutched tightly in her fist. Nyx struggled to hold back a stream of curses and an equally colorful flow of angry tears as she glanced back at the castle.

She never should have let him come.

* * *

_Present Day_

_Storybrooke_

The gentle creaking of the _Jolly Roger _failed to lull him to sleep, and the captain found himself up on deck, breathing in the chill night air and leaning against the rigging, trying in vain to clear his head. It didn't help that Nyx's voice kept circling around in his mind, almost taunting him with her last words to Cora. She'd been looking at the sorceress when she'd said them, but he couldn't help wondering if the jibe hadn't been meant more for him.

_Show me you have honor..._

Honor - what had once been so damned important to him, but had long ago fallen victim to his thirst for vengeance. He couldn't count how many people he'd betrayed and backstabbed to get to this point. He was so close to what he wanted. Milah was so close to finally being laid to rest.

But at what price?

How close had he come to letting slip that singular virtue he'd tried so hard to preserve - that one thing he'd believed was the difference between himself and those he'd hunted?

He could still see the tears Nyx had fought on the rooftop, the salty drops having pooled in those haunting grey eyes. Though the murder had been nothing more than an act to further his own ends - as well as Cora's, it seemed - the pain they had caused was all too real. Those tears had been real, and it would take more than the little bug's return and an "I'm sorry," to erase them.

Then again, he tried to reason, he was a pirate. When had tears ever swayed him, really? He'd raided and sacked villages for hundreds of years, killed Lost Boys by the lot, and burned too many ships to count. Causing pain was almost a part of the job description. What were her tears in comparison to that? But there was something about seeing that pain first hand that had made it personal.

"Damn it," he sighed, running his hand through his hair and turning away from the sea. Milah deserved justice. She deserved her coward husband's crushed heart on a silver platter. But he couldn't give her that yet, much as he wanted to. The best he could hope to do was wound the beast while there was magic here, and Hook was determined to do his best.

_But at what cost, Killian?_

He'd been seeking revenge for centuries. Wasn't it a little late to be considering the cost? He'd come too far to turn back now.

Then why couldn't he get that damned woman's face out of his head?

He swore again, his voice sounding louder than he'd intended on the air

_Show me you have honor..._

"Having second thoughts?"

The Cricket's voice had become familiar to him in the past few days, although he hadn't yet heard it sound so calm. He peeked curiously through the wooden grate in the deck down into the hold,, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"So _now _you want to talk, do you?" he teased.

Hopper shrugged up at the pirate as best as he could with his hands tied above him. "Nothing else to do."

Hook supposed that was true and decided he didn't really want to continue the line of thought he'd been on only moments ago. Perhaps a bit of conversation would be sufficiently diverting to allow him some sleep before the sun rose. He lifted the grate up and dropped down onto a barrel.

"No hook, Hook?"

He glared at the Cricket in irritation, frowning at his stump. "A temporary problem to be sure. You can consider its absence compliments of a friend of yours."

"Which friend?" The doctor's brows furrowed together in confusion.

"The pretty one with light fingers," the captain scowled. "It seems my hook is the latest casualty of her growing collection."

"Oh." The Cricket laughed lightly, his blue eyes thoughtful. "She'd probably give it back if you asked - Nyx fights dirty, but she plays fair."

An interesting concept to a man who'd always tried to do just the opposite. "I don't think she's particularly inclined to take requests from me, mate. She took your 'murder' rather hard, I think."

The man's eyes narrowed slyly. "Well, you could always let me go. I imagine she'd be more talkative if she knew I wasn't really dead."

"Oh I will, mate," the pirate smiled. "But not quite yet. You gave me what I needed - I've no reason to keep you beyond tomorrow."

The Cricket frowned. "You really think Cora will give me up? She went through a fair bit of effort to get me here."

The man had a point. Presumably, the sorceress had gotten what she'd wanted out of the doctor's disappearance. But the man was in a prime position for information gathering, and the more Hook thought about it, the less he believed the Cricket would be going anywhere still in possession of his heart. It wouldn't be the first time Cora had surprised him with ulterior motives.

Instead of addressing the question, the pirate leaned forward and snatched the man's spectacles off his nose in curiosity. "Why do you wear these?" he asked thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time he'd seen a pair of glasses, but most people he knew of wore them only occasionally for reading and the like.

"They help me see better." He was awfully patient for a man who'd just had his sight more or less stolen from him. Killian could help but notice their conversations were much more pleasant when they didn't involve the threat of torture. They might even have gotten along, had circumstances been different.

"Yes, but you wear them constantly." The pirate glanced though the lenses, quickly nauseated by the way the world seemed to blur and shift through the glass. "Is your sight truly so poor?"

"There were a lot of advantages to actually _being_ a cricket," the doctor answered drily "Among them was better vision."

Hook had an idea then, and stood abruptly with a self-satisfied grin. He folded the spectacles and slid them into his coat pocket carefully, the action a bit more difficult one handed. The Cricket peered up at him in confusion and the slightest bit of concern. "I'm going to borrow these, if you don't mind."

"I'm not in much of a position to argue, am I?"

"Thankfully not," the pirate agreed, climbing back up onto the deck - which was _also_ more difficult sans-hook. Damned woman. Why did the female half of their species always have to make life so much more challenging? "No need to worry, though, mate. You'll have them back soon enough."

Without acknowledging his prisoner's muttered protests, Hook strode down towards the docks, a smirk threatening to break across his face. _Oh, to see her face..._

If Nyx wanted games, he'd give her games - but they'd be playing on his terms. She thought he had no honor? He'd have his vengeance, and in the meantime he'd happily prove the thief wrong.

* * *

_Meanwhile_.

The shock on Rumpelstiltskin's face as he opened the trunk to find Nyx playing idly on her cell phone was absolutely priceless. She couldn't keep herself from laughing a little as she helped herself out into the early dawn air, not feeling the least bit sorry for the man stumbling slightly away from her, trying to figure out how exactly she'd gotten there without him noticing. The Dark One was so rarely surprised, it seemed, that he didn't rightly know how to handle it. Thief was rather proud of herself for rendering him speechless, even if coming across Smee was nothing more than outstanding luck.

"You don't look happy to see me, Imp."

"I can't say that I am, dearie."

"Expecting someone else, then? Perhaps some poor kidnapped pirate - a pirate who works for me, I might add. You know I don't really take well to my people disappearing in the middle of the night."

He chuckled. "And what exactly are you going to do about it, Thief? Slip a knife between my ribs while I'm sleeping? You can't kill me."

"I wouldn't need to kill you," she shrugged. "I told you - killing's bad for business."

The Imp sighed, unimpressed and seemingly disappointed with how his morning was going. "Get in the car," he ordered half-heartedly. "I'll drive you back."

"How uncharacteristically thoughtful of you," she teased gently. "But we're already out here, so you might as well tell me what you wanted with Smee."

"It doesn't matter."

"Then you shouldn't mind sharing."

He looked at her irritatedly for a moment before giving in. "I think I may have come up with a way to cross the town line without losing my memories. I was going to test it on the pirate."

She raised her eyebrows, impressed. "So test it on me."

"You're not serious," he scoffed even as she walked over to the orange line painted on the ground, peering over curiously.

"Why not?"

"You've got a lot to lose," he frowned.

"And a lot to gain," she countered, grinning. "You have any idea how valuable the ability to leave town is? I'm imagining a pile of gold made by importing Twinkies from the next town over."

"Thief - "

"Look," she frowned. "I've got the Sheriff on my ass already, and she's only been in town a week. If I need to disappear for a while..." Nyx shrugged. "Anyway, you've got nothing to lose, right? Well, except for the pleasure of my company of course. The Guild will hold to my agreement with you even without me."

Nyx was once again astounded by the impact Belle had on the Imp. He really was a much more pleasant person when he was worried about the bookworm's opinion of him.

He let out a small sigh and joined her at the line, his cane tapping against the asphalt as he walked. "I'll need your most treasured possession."

Without a second thought, Nyx pulled the leather cord from around her neck, handing the Dark One the clam shell she'd gotten from her father.

"You're sure this is it?"

"Yes," she frowned. She really didn't have very many possessions, and this one was by far the most meaningful to her. "Out of curiosity, what happens if it isn't?"

"You lose your memory," he shrugged, pulling the stopper out of a small glass bottle. The potion glowed strongly blue as he poured a generous amount on the necklace before handing it back to her.

Nyx felt a small amount of apprehension grip her gut as she tied the ends of the cord back around her neck, feeling the shell settle at the base of her throat with a familiar weight.

"The shell," the Imp explained as he caught her gaze, "should act as a talisman, tying you to the memories of your old life and allowing you to cross the line without reverting to your cursed self."

"'Should'?"

He shrugged noncomittally, and Nyx had to remind herself that she was the one who'd volunteered to be the guinea pig. She took a deep breath and clenched her fist at her side.

"I guess Penny wasn't really that bad," she muttered, half-joking, and forced herself to step forward.

* * *

_4 Years Pre Curse_

_Enchanted Forest_

Nyx waited until night fell again before going back up the hill, only hoping that Robin was still alive. The wand was tucked safely away in one of her many pockets and she'd bandaged her wounds as well as she could. She'd spent most of the morning in an internal debate, trying to decide whether she should go forward and get the wand to the dying Marian or if she should go back and try to save Rob. The questions had gone round and round in her head until she'd been almost too frustrated to make a choice.

She was a thief, not a hero. She shouldn't have to make these kinds of life or death decisions.

In the end, she'd decided she was by far closer to the Dark One's castle than to Sherwood Forest, so Rob would be first. There was always the chance that they'd be too late to save Marian and her baby, but if she left her friend with the Imp his death was guaranteed. Better to worry about what she knew would happen than worry about "what if"s. If the two of them escaped alive, they could always "borrow" - Rob had a problem with the term "steal" even if it was more accurate - a pair of horses from the stables nearby to make it back to the forest more quickly.

But first she had to get him out of there - assuming he was capable of travel at all.

The plan was simple, if anything about the Dark One could be considered "simple." She'd go up the slope along the safe path, then look for Rob through the windows. Then all that was left was to break the glass or knock out the bars, get in, grab the outlaw, and get out before the alarm went off or Rumpelstiltskin came to investigate the noise. No problem, right?

Sure.

Of course, she was assuming that whatever dark, dank, miserable cell her friend was in had a window at all - which was doubtful - and that the Dark One, himself, wasn't lying in wait for the bandit's friend to foolishly attempt a rescue. Still, she had to try. She couldn't just leave him there.

She told herself that if she couldn't find a way in by sunrise, she'd follow his last instructions and get their hard-stolen prize to his pregnant wife. Part of her knew she was lying, though. She'd try as long as she had to.

Taking a deep breath, she started back up towards the castle, carefully following the same path she had earlier. The traps, having been set off earlier by her reckless descent down the hill, were much more obvious this trip. She passed pitfalls, broken tripwires, and scorched earth as she went, remembering each of them acutely. Still, Nyx didn't dare stray away from her little stones. The magical traps were far more difficult to detect and often were good for more than one use.

She reached the doors more quickly on her own and glanced into the first window. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to scowl or jump for joy when she was met with the sight of her green-cloaked friend making his way towards the front doors. What the hell? She thought he was in mortal danger!

Rob slipped out the front and quickly noticed her skulking in the shadows. He grinned at her.

"I definitely thought rescuing you would be more difficult than that," she glared half-heartedly, glad more than anything that he was alright and she'd worried needlessly.

"And I definitely thought you'd be halfway to Sherwood by now."

"Well I guess this night is just full of surprises. So what happened?"

"I got caught. The Dark One wanted to flay me alive, but I was spared by a woman working in his castle. She let me go free."

"Flayed alive, huh?"

He pulled his collar down to reveal a long gash from his ear down past his collarbone. Nyx winced at the sight, though she was no stranger to wounds.

"We'd best be gone before the Dark One returns." He glanced apprehensively back at the structure looming over them.

"Alright, lover boy. Let's get you back to your wife." She glanced back over her shoulder at him as they turned to return to the woods. "Next time you're staying home, got it?"

"But now I have a friend in enemy territory," he countered playfully. "Maybe _you_ should stay home."

"I know better than to trust your luck," she grinned. "It has a tendency to run out at the worst moments."

"And yours is a bottomless spring, my friend - that's why I keep you around."

* * *

_Present Day_

_Storybrooke_

Hook had only to ask his faithful red-hatted quartermaster in order to find out where his little auburn-haired thief lived, although the man had been somewhat reluctant to give up the information until the captain assured him he meant the woman no harm. Seeing Smee try to handle conflicting loyalties was interesting, and he wasn't sure how much he liked sharing his crew with the Thieves' Guild. While it was nice to know that they were well looked after and staying out of trouble - well, more or less - the fact remained that his men were growing rather fond of their land-loving friends. Nyx, in particular, seemed to have wormed her way into their hearts rather quickly, regardless of her affiliation with the crocodile - and if the captain were honest, even he couldn't bring himself to think of her as harshly as perhaps he should have.

Of course, it helped that she'd returned his hook without him having to ask for it. Smee had produced his stolen property nearly as soon as they'd met on the rooftop to plan the day's revenge. It had seemed like an apology of sorts, and combined with Smee's rescue earlier that morning Hook was having trouble thinking of her as more of an adversary than a potential friend.

_...and I'll treat you honorably..._

Damned woman.

He shook his head slightly, being careful to be as quiet as possible as he grabbed ahold of the rail to the external staircase - Smee had called it a "fire escape," but the captain couldn't see why you couldn't just jump out the window, considering there were only three stories to the building - outside of "Granny's." Why the thief had chosen to live above the small eatery was beyond him. The smell of food cooking from downstairs would indeed be pleasant, he supposed, but listening to the variable cacophony of customers going in and out all day long would drive him mad.

As he pried open the latch on the window and slipped inside, he was immediately struck by the stillness of the room. The sun had only just begun to rise a few minutes ago - by all reasonable laws of normal behavior the thief should be curled up beneath the pile of blankets on the worn mattress in the corner. But as he looked around - it was only one room, so it didn't take him much time - he didn't see any evidence of her having even come in that night.

He wasn't in any hurry, so he took the opportunity to explore. He'd often found that the contents of a person's home spoke volumes, and the Guildmaster was no exception to that rule. Everything from the plain table and chairs to the neatly arranged bookshelves sported a fine layer of dust. The only thing in the room that looked to have seen regular use was the bed, which rested on the floor and was tucked away in the corner nearest the window. A stack of books with familiar titles took the place of a nightstand, and Hook smiled a little as he noticed the tale of _Peter Pan_ laying open near her pillows.

He snatched up the book and flipped through it curiously, wondering what lies she'd been reading (he was fairly sure he wasn't the hero of the tale considering the title). He grinned briefly as he glanced at an illustration of "Peter saving Tiger Lilly", remembering a distinctly different chain of events in the Echo Cave. If Nyx thought to get to know him through these particular stories, she was going to end up with a number of rather tragic misconceptions. After a moment's thought, he slipped the book into his pocket, still smirking to himself.

Without further distractions, he forced himself to get to the purpose of his visit, laying his little "gift" on her dining table and carefully leaning a note against it. Stepping back to survey his work, he felt rather pleased with himself. Part of him really wished he could be there to see her find the blue-wrapped parcel, but the elegant simplicity of this method of delivery was too precious to spoil.

But the day was already starting, and he had a library to get to and a noblewoman to frighten, so he slipped back out the window without disturbing anything else, closing it carefully behind him. He could already tell today was going to be a good day.

* * *

_Meanwhile_

Cora had cloaked herself in magic at the edge of the little cemetery to avoid being seen. She'd never really understood the need for funerals. People died uselessly all the time. What was the point in trying to make it mean something when it so obviously didn't?

Nevertheless, it was entertaining to watch Snow and her friends mourn someone who wasn't actually dead. They all cried and hugged each other in a nauseating display of emotion, making the sorceress glad she'd had the foresight to detach herself from the weakness of feeling. She didn't know how they all dealt with it all the time - it must be terribly tiresome to have to fight your own conscience in addition to everyone else's when you wanted something.

The "service" was short and sweet, Snow's speech lasting only a few minutes, and by noon they'd all dispersed back towards town. The witch was almost disappointed to be left to her own devices again. Waiting was so dull.

As she was about to leave, a flash of grey in the treeline caught her eye, drawing her attention to the dejected little Guildmaster who'd been hiding out at the edge of the ceremony. The girl was still in the same clothes from yesterday, and the slouch to her shoulders was evidence of a sleepless night. Cora found it somehow satisfying that she'd deprived the girl of her peace of mind.

She hadn't really expected the girl to jump at the chance to work for her, but the complete rejection of the idea had been surprising. Cora was easily one of the most - if not _the_ most - powerful individual now in Storybrooke, and she'd thought the thief would recognize that. Power meant safety, and the sorceress had been more than willing to provide her protection from coming events in return for the Guildmaster's services. No, she didn't want the Guild. She wanted _Nyx._ Of all the thieves she'd ever come across, only Nyx possessed the particular set of skills she required for successfully stealing the Dark One's Dagger.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if she didn't quite possess the right set of morals for the job.

Cora could do it, herself, of course - but having the thief's help would make things far less _messy_.

She found herself smiling a little as she watched the younger woman lay a white rose across the freshly-dug grave. The girl didn't say a word as she turned and trudged back to town, brushing her fingers against the headstone as she left.

How disgustingly touching.

The Queen of Hearts scowled briefly before whispering quietly to herself, "Love is _weakness_, you foolish girl." And Nyx loved her friends dearly. It was obvious that the loss of the Cricket had devastated her, as had the loss of her father. There was little the girl wouldn't do to keep the rest of them safe.

The witch smiled at a sudden thought, feeling suddenly a bit more hopeful. The Thief of Thieves wasn't nearly as out of reach as she'd thought. All she needed was just the right leverage.


	7. Chapter 6

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* * *

Nyx stood frozen outside her window, staring at the open latch on the sill and trying to suppress the sliver of panic threatening to take over. Her instinct told her to run, to get as far away from here as possible, but she forced herself to use her head. Trying to hide was no use - she hadn't exactly been quiet about climbing the fire escape on her way up to the apartment, and if anyone was lying in wait for her they already would know she was there. So her options were really quite simple - flee or go ahead and spring the trap.

This never would have happened in the Enchanted Forest. There, everyone had shared space, sleeping on cots in one big room whenever the need struck them and wandering the streets during waking hours. Those thieves with families were welcome to have their own homes, but Nyx had never had the spare time or effort to spend on relationships outside of work. So she'd bunked in with Bryan and Justin and the rest. The communal space meant no one could ever really surprise the in their own home, even if they could find it. But twenty-eight years in Storybrooke had Nyx accustomed to privacy, not thinking of the potential dangers involved. Apparently that was about to bite her in the ass.

Running was most definitely safer. She could probably book it to the _Hole_ and outrun just about anyone who gave chase, but she'd been avoiding going to the bar if only to put a little distance between the Guild and her current little mess. On top of that, she couldn't deny that she was dreadfully curious about what would happen if she gave in and just opened the window. Of course, there was also that possibility that it was one of her thieves waiting for her, but she couldn't know that for sure since the phone in her pocket had been dead for a few hours now.

In the end, curiosity won out over self-preservation - a fact which she refused to consider too closely considering it would probably put her in therapy rather quickly, and the town's only shrink wasn't exactly taking new patients - and she slipped inside the apartment cautiously, holding her breath in anticipation.

Still nothing.

In fact, there wasn't much of anything that seemed out of place at all, provided you didn't count the perfectly innocent looking little present lying on her kitchen table. She eyed the blue-wrapped parcel suspiciously, noting the folded slip of parchment with her name carefully scrawled across the surface.

Wait. Parchment?

Oh great. Hook was here.

She couldn't deny that she was relieved Cora hadn't been going through her things, but a quick glance towards her stack of bedtime reading material - most of which had been "borrowed" from the library - told her the pirate hadn't exactly kept his hands clean during his visit. _Peter Pan_ was conspicuously absent from the pile - the narcissist. Still, she was fairly certain that if Hook wanted to kill her he'd do it directly. Regardless of what the book said about him having tried to poison Pan, she trusted her pirates' opinion of him more than that of some author who hadn't even known the man's real name.

Still, she was careful not to cut herself on the edges of the page as she unfolded the note, knowing they all had a somewhat skewed concept of honor - herself included.

_Darling,_

_I found these in the hold of my ship and thought you might have a better use for them than I._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Hook_

She frowned, wondering what the hell _that_ was supposed to mean and suppressing a flash of irritation over how the man managed to be flirtatious and charming even in his letter-writing. "Darling"? Who was he to be calling her _"darling"_?

Damned pirate.

She glared at the unassuming gift on the table, but once again couldn't curb her curiosity. Nyx tore the tissue away quickly, discarding it and the poorly tied ribbon (she was impressed he'd managed to tie a bow one-handed, but it was still fairly sloppy) thoughtlessly on the floor as she stared in shock at what was left in her hand.

Archie's glasses?

He'd given her the Cricket's glasses?

How had he even gotten them? She distinctly remembered the glasses being on the evidence log for the murder case, which she'd read while breaking out of the Sheriff's office. She frowned heavily in confusion as she read the note again, over and over, trying to make sense of it. She could tell he was trying to tell her something - she could almost feel his smugness at being cryptic coming through the page - but her tired brain was somewhat slow at putting the puzzle together.

_I found these in the hold of my ship..._

Okay, so what were the Cricket's glasses doing on his ship? And wait - his ship was here? How in the world had a pirate ship escaped the Guild's notice? No one had thought the sudden appearance of the _Jolly Roger_ in a town where no one was supposed to leave or show up was out of the ordinary?

She shook her head in frustration, forcing herself to look for answers instead of coming up with more answers. So he'd found them on his ship, which meant that the Cricket had been there at some point. But Archie had been found at his office, which obviously didn't fit, and Nyx highly doubted the man had known Hook and Cora were in town _before_ the witch had killed him. So he'd been there after his death, which told her there had been two bodies - one in the morgue and one on the _Roger_ - and two pairs of glasses.

Two bodies, a sorceress, and a pirate ship. So how was she supposed to "use" the glasses? And why had Hook told her his ship was here - unless he wanted her co come looking for -

"Oh," she muttered as the pieces rather abruptly clicked together. "Well, shit."

_Apparently just saying "Hey, the Cricket's alive - come get him" would have been too straightforward,_ she thought as she headed right back out the window.

Damned pirate.

* * *

Justin checked his phone for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, letting out a growl of frustration at the still-empty notifications bar at the top of the screen. He wasn't sure why he thought she'd answer him - she rarely ever did. For all of Nyx's talent for getting out of trouble, the one thing she was perhaps better at was getting _into_ trouble.

And oh, were they in trouble this time.

Thanks to whatever involvement the Guildmaster had in the Cricket's murder, the Guild had suddenly found itself at odds with the sheriff and Snow White. Miss Swan had been cracking down on them for things as simple as breaking and entering, which thus far had seemed like the easiest way to find people who may or may not have wanted to be found and manage the ever-persistent list of missing townspeople. Within the morning, the few small jail cells in Storybrooke had been very nearly packed, leaving the Guild vulnerable for a lack of members. Only the more senior thieves and the orphans were left out on the streets.

And Nyx couldn't be bothered to answer the damn phone.

Granted, he was a thief, and skulking around in back alleys running from the law shouldn't really bother him. And had he actually done anything recently that warranted arrest, he probably wouldn't care so much. But taking a fall in the name of the Guildmaster's fuck up - or her moral dilemma, whichever - wasn't something he was particularly happy about.

He almost jumped in excitement when his phone buzzed at him. The message was from Bryan, not Nyx, but if anyone would have a plan it was the Second.

Which is why he felt so disappointed at the man's question.

_do u know where she is?_

Justin scowled in frustration as he typed a response, not comforted at all by the fact he wasn't the only one the Guildmaster was ignoring.

_no. i thought u would._

_guess shes disappeared again. hope its sumthing important._

It wasn't the first time Nyx had dropped off the map for one reason or another, usually in order to protect the Guild from whatever she'd gotten herself into. The Thief of Thieves had a bit of an honorable streak that tended to get her sucked into things a little over her head - the war between Snow and the Evil Queen being one example, as well as Robin Hood's attempt at restoring King Richard to his throne. But Storybrooke wasn't nearly as big as the Enchanted Forest, and whatever she'd done this time, she'd dragged the Guild down with her.

_me 2. this is getting old really fast._

_sorry. im working on it. meeting swan in 1hr 2 c what we can do to sort this out._

_what did she even do?_

_dunno. had sumthing to do w/Regina._

Oh great. She'd been playing all _three_ of the most powerful people in the Enchanted Forest? That was a conflict of interests waiting to happen. Goddammit. Would have been nice of her to talk to them first.

Justin was so busy trying not to type profanities to Bryan that he didn't realize he wasn't alone until it was already too late to run.

"This is too _easy_," a voice gushed happily from just behind him. The swordsmaster spun around in surprise and felt his stomach drop abruptly at the sight of the woman before him. Of all the people who he possibly could have been caught by, it had to be _her._ Cora just smiled at him, altogether too pleased with herself.

She must have noticed his shock, because she managed to smile even wider, laughing to herself. "Nyx didn't tell you I was in town, did she? Such a shame - I imagine you'd have been more careful."

Nyx had known? He added that to his list of current complaints over the Guildmaster, although he couldn't help but wonder why. Was she in trouble somehow?

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Oh my dear boy." Justin couldn't miss the menacing glint to her eyes and a shiver of dread raced up his spine. He'd been careless, and he had no doubt he was about to pay for it. "You'll find out soon enough."

He didn't even have enough time to try and move away before she thrust her hand into his chest. The pain was literally crippling. Every muscle in his body was paralyzed with it as her fingers closed around his heart and pulled the glowing organ free from his body. He collapsed at her feet a moment later, feeling the hollow ache in his chest as it was replaced by a rush of her power. He was hers, and he knew there was no way that could possibly bode well for the friends he'd considered family all his life.

"Now, why don't we have a little talk."

* * *

Nyx took the long way to the docks, not daring to risk getting caught on the open streets by either friend or foe. The line between the two had always been somewhat blurred, but she knew now it was worse than it had ever been.

Emma had been rounding up her thieves both before and after the funeral, and the Guildmaster wasn't sure what to do about that. On one hand, she was sure none of them appreciated being confined. But as long as they were in the Sheriff's station under the careful watch of Prince Charming and probably his wife, they were safe from Cora and her plans.

On top of that, Hook, who was more or less in bed with the enemy, had all but handed her the key to restoring peaceful relations between her and the Charmings. If Archie wasn't actually dead, as he'd implied, there wasn't any reason to arrest her for assisting the "murderer."

So her "friend" was doing her best to put her in jail and her "enemy" was helping her clear her name. The overall effect left Nyx not entirely sure who she was supposed to trust, so she tried to steer clear of everyone and anyone for fear of wasting time on the problem. If Jiminy was really alive, she doubted Cora was in favor of releasing him - so there was no time to lose.

Which was why the thief hesitated for a long moment when she was met by the sight of Belle wandering around the shipyard, with a gun in her hand no less. The woman seemed to be looking for something, and Nyx could very well guess what it was considering her confused frown. The water was puzzlingly devoid of pirate ships - or ships of any kind, really.

"What are you doing here?" the thief called to her friend after a moment, being careful not to startle her for fear that the gun was loaded. Her voice sounded loud in comparison to the gentle lapping of the waves against the docks.

Belle frowned. "I'm looking for something. I thought you were in jail?"

Nyx grinned. "I was - but I'm looking for someone. your 'something' doesn't happen to be a three-hundred year old ship, does it?"

"How would you know that?"

"Lucky guess," she shrugged, wondering what the odds were of both her and Belle looking for the _Jolly Roger_ at the same time. She supposed it could be a trap, but it seemed like a lot of effort when the pirate could have just killed her at home. Dragging her out to the docks seemed entirely unnecessary - and on top of that she _wanted_ to trust Hook, not just because she hoped the Cricket was still alive. Still, it couldn't hurt to dig into Belle's story a little, just to know what was going on. If the bookworm was here, the Imp wasn't far behind, and while she still wasn't entirely sure where she stood with the roguish captain of the _Roger_, she knew she didn't really want to contribute to his demise. "Why do you want to find it?"

"How do you know about Hook?" the woman countered, her blue eyes boring into the thief challengingly.

_Very well, an answer for an answer._ "I'm more or less babysitting his crew." At Belle's half-horrified gasp, Nyx gave an easy smile. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. You?"

"He attacked me in the library this morning, then he stole something from Rumple."

The thief frowned. So Hook had been busy this morning. Part of her wasn't surprised he'd gone after Belle - the Imp didn't have many weaknesses to choose from and the noblewoman was by far the most accessible of them. Still, she made a mental note to keep her as far away from the pirate as possible in the future. She wasn't about to let Belle get caught up in between her boyfriend and Hook if she could help it.

"What'd he steal?"

There was a brief moment when Nyx thought Belle would lie to her in an attempt to protect the Imp, but the woman's honest streak and trusting nature quickly won out. "A shawl from the shop. It's not really worth much, but it means a lot to Rumple."

Ah, a potential talisman perhaps? She rubbed the newly enchanted clam shell at her throat unconsciously in thought. So the pirate had stolen the Imp's ticket out of Storybrooke. How had he known about that? The only one who'd known she'd been with Rumpelstiltskin this morning was Smee -

Oh, damn. So the man's protective instinct had kicked in. She wasn't sure whether she found the idea of Smee following the Imp out into the woods more endearing or infuriating. It _was_ kind of sweet, really. But she now knew she couldn't trust him to do as he was told if push came to shove. She was going to have to have a little talk with him later.

"And he sent you to find it?" Nyx pressed, returning her focus to the present. "No offense, but I don't think you'd be my first choice for reclaiming stolen property." The woman was smart as hell, but highly inexperienced if the heels she was wearing were any indication. Nyx winced at the thought of having to run in those shoes, let alone try and fight.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

_Well, I don't want to be around when he finds out._ "Which is why you brought a gun?" she asked dubiously.

The woman glanced at the weapon and gave the thief an embarrassed smile. "I, uh, don't even know how to use it. Rumple gave it to me in case Hook came after me again."

"Oh," Nyx answered lamely. If she were honest, she didn't know very much about guns either. She'd never found much use for flintlocks or blunderbusses back home because of the loud noise associated with firing them, and she hadn't had the opportunity or inclination to learn about modern firearms since the curse had been broken. Still, she mentioned to Belle that it might be a good idea not to point it accidentally at anyone she particularly liked. She'd heard too many stories of misfires to be comfortable with the way the noblewoman handled the weapon.

They walked up and down the docks together for a while in silence, becoming increasingly confused and frustrated when they still couldn't seem to find the _Roger_. It wasn't until they started down the last dock in the row that Nyx found herself pausing to listen to the creak and groan of empty air. She looked to Belle in surprise and found her friend's gaze locked on a seagull that had flown up to perch gracefully on nothingness.

"Do you think..." Nyx was admittedly a little awed by the idea of an invisible ship and couldn't spare quite enough attention to finish the question. Imagine the possibilities! The pirates could steal just about anything they wanted and always make a clean getaway. No one could give chase to something they couldn't _see_.

Although she'd never been sailing in her life and wouldn't have any idea what to do with it, she immediately decided that she wanted one.

Belle, thankfully, was a bit more focused on her task and had quickly moved to throw sand over the invisible gangplank, confirming once and for all that there was, in fact, a ship literally right in front of them. Her friend's face lit up in triumph before she moved to board.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait," Nyx frowned, grabbing the other woman's arm to stop her. Invisible ship meant invisible Hook and possibly even invisible Cora, and that didn't sound very good. In fact, it seemed like a very very _bad_ idea to go waltzing into what could very well be an ambush - Nyx didn't trust the sorceress not to take advantage of the pirate's more honorable tendencies. Belle, unfortunately, didn't seem to share her apprehension.

"Come on," the noblewoman urged.

"I really don't like this. You're not worried about who might be onboard?"

"If they're there, they've already seen us."

"That's exactly my point. You really don't find that concerning?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out."

Nyx glanced up at the seagull apprehensively. "Maybe I should go alone. I'll find the shawl and bring it back to you at the Imp's shop."

Belle bristled a bit. "I can handle myself."

"Sure you can," the thief replied drily, raising a speculative eyebrow. "I'm sure you've fought many a swashbuckling pirate during your time in the Dark One's castle."

"And you've fought so many in the capital - which, as I remember it, was very thoroughly surrounded by dry land."

"I fought a gang of bandits at one point," if you counted street thugs as bandits and escaping down a sewage grate fighting. She wasn't completely incompetent with a sword, but seven versus one against her didn't seem like odds she wanted to gamble with. "How different could it be?"

Belle knew she didn't have to answer that, so she didn't. Still, she wasn't done with her argument. "Look, we can help search the ship together. It will be faster and we can watch each other's backs. And then I'll help you find whoever you're looking for."

Nyx groaned. "Belle - "

"I'm not going to let you risk yourself in my stead. I'm going with you."

It was then that the thief was suddenly struck by how much the noblewoman reminded her of Robin. Belle fixed her with that same hard, stubborn stare that her old friend had used against her so many times before, and Nyx knew she wasn't going to be able to change her mind.

"Damn it, fine," she conceded, giving her friend a hard look. "But if I tell you to run, you do it. No questions - or so help me I'll call the Imp right now and have him take you home. Got it?"

The bookworm smiled at her and nodded - and then proceeded to stride up into the cloaking spell, causing the frustrated thief to scramble up after her. Oh god, she hoped this wasn't a mistake.

She wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting, but the _Jolly Roger_ was most definitely not what she thought of when she pictured a pirate ship. It was painted in vibrant, happy shades of red, yellow, and blue. What bare wood there was had been polished to a sheen, shining brightly beside neat piles of rope and canvas. She couldn't help but think the ship looked almost too jovial for her black-clad captain, and Nyx smiled at the contrast before hopping down onto the deck after her companion.

Belle looked somewhat at a loss as to what to do now that they were onboard, so the thief motioned for her to follow as she started down a narrow, steep staircase that led down into the ship. It was warmer down here, and not just because they were out of the wind. The difference between temperatures was too drastic for it to be anything other than magic heating the bowels of the vessel.

"Cricket first," the thief instructed quietly. "He should be in the hold."

"Wait," Belle frowned. "You're looking for Archie?"

Nyx nodded, not stopping as she looked for a way deeper into the ship. She had no idea what constituted the hold versus anything else - other than the deck, but that was fairly obvious - but as she opened the first door on her right to start looking, she decided this level looked like it was probably the crew's quarters.

"But he's dead."

"Nope," she answered over her shoulder.

"How do you know?"

Before she could respond, she was interrupted by a hesitant "hello" ringing out through the room in a familiar voice. Nyx grinned.

"Jiminy?" she called, ignoring Belle's confounded expression as she started looking around the room. Unless the cricket was actually a cricket again, she couldn't see where he could possibly be hiding. "Where are you?"

"Nyx! Thank God. I'm down here. Lift up the grate."

The only "grates" in the room were the seats of the benches against the walls, and as she moved towards them, she caught sight of a very human and very much alive Dr. Hopper smiling up at her. His hands were tied to the ceiling with a length of coarse rope and - funnily enough - his glasses were missing.

"Well, fancy seeing you here," she teased.

"How are you -," Belle stuttered behind her, peering into the hold as the thief jumped down to cut the Cricket free. "But there was a body. We buried you."

"It was Cora," he explained, rubbing his wrists in relief and looking back to Nyx. "How did you know where to find me?"

Nyx merely grinned and produced his glasses from her jacket pocket, feeling undeniably relieved to see him. "Remind me to thank Hook next time I see him."

"_Hook_ told you?" Belle gasped, her glare accusatory as she helped Jiminy up the step into the little room. "But he - "

"It's complicated," the thief supplied with a shrug, still smiling. "I'll explain later if you want. But Cricket, you've gotta get back to town."

"Wait," he frowned. "You're not coming with me?"

"We have something else to find before we go back." The sound of footsteps above them interrupted her, and Nyx glanced at the ceiling nervously, knowing there were really only two people that could be.

Belle seemed to understand the sudden urgency as she turned back to Jiminy. "Go. Find Rumple, tell him we're here, bring him back to the ship." When he hesitated, she gave him a firm nudge towards the door. "Hurry!"

Nyx gestured for Belle to climb down into the hold, but the noblewoman shook her head. "No, you look down there. I'll look up here - there's no time to argue. Meet back here in ten minutes."

The thief would have protested, time allowing or not, but Belle was already busy searching the shelves on the wall in front of her so she turned and started to look around the hold. She wasn't sure how much she appreciated her friend giving her orders considering burglary was supposed to be _her_ area of expertise, but having an organized approach might not be a bad thing.

Sunlight streamed through a grate above her, and Nyx realized she could see up on deck if she looked at just the right angle. So she took the opportunity to find out who had just come aboard. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Hook's black coat not a few feet away. She could just barely see his face and shoulders from where he stood, and she could tell by the wistful furrow of his brow as he studied something in his hand - she couldn't quite see what it was - that he was lost in a memory.

Of course, that relief quickly vanished as the Cricket stepped out in plain view. She supressed the urge to swear, knowing that the pirate would hear her if she did, and Jiminy froze like a deer in the headlights under the captain's stare. Honestly, the conscience had no guile at all - not even the sense to hide or check to see if the coast was clear before trying to make a run for it?

"What are you still doing on my ship?" Hook scolded in a curiously light tone. Nyx couldn't help but smile a little, glad to know he really had wanted the Cricket to "escape," though she still wondered why he hadn't just let the man go. It was easy enough to lie about it if he was worried about Cora.

Archie smiled in relief but still lingered, unable to leave without a parting nugget of wisdom. "You don't have to do this you know. Revenge is a choice - and it comes with a price. It won't give you what you're looking for."

Nyx couldn't count the number of times she'd heard him say those same words to her after her father's execution. Even after the deed had been done and Jacobs lied dead at her feet, it had taken her a long time to really understand what the Cricket had meant.

"We'll see, mate." The pirate gave him a tight smile, turning so Nyx could no longer see him. She heard his footsteps against the deck as he walked. "Give Snow and her daughter my best, when you see them."

The thief didn't wait around to see what Jiminy did next - she'd wasted enough time already. If the shawl was down here, she doubted she'd find it in Belle's set time frame, but at the very least she could learn the layout of the place so she could return to get it later, preferably only having herself to worry about.

The ship really wasn't terribly big. She came across only eight cannons, four to each side, as she quietly scouted out the length of the ship. There were cannonballs and casks of gunpowder stacked up neatly beside each, and further towards the back she found the kitchens and what looked like a small surgery, as well as a large-ish supply room filled with bags of rice and barrels of rum. Still, there was nowhere that really looked like a likely hiding spot for the Dark One's most precious possession, though the thief was careful to double check on her way back to Belle.

As soon as she heard Hook's voice from up ahead, Nyx knew Belle had been caught. They were arguing about something in low voices, the noblewoman sounding a little upset and the pirate's voice full of dark humor.

"... do you think anyone who's ever gotten close to him has either run away, or been killed?"

At the sound of the gun cocking, she risked a glance up the small stairway to find the pirate standing just in front of her with his back turned. Belle's gun was in his hand, presumably pointed at the bookworm herself at the far end of the room. Silently, she poked her head up and made brief eye contact with her friend. Thankfully, the noblewoman had enough sense not to react.

Hook kept talking, but Nyx wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying beyond noting he was still oblivious to her presence. She carefully pulled herself up until she was crouched right behind him, thankful she'd always been good at keeping her movements silent. Bryan never could have pulled this off. She kept her breaths short and shallow for fear that he'd feel them on the back of his neck, and when she was ready she nodded quietly to Belle, knowing the other woman understood what she meant to do.

Belle's voice grew in confidence as she answered whatever question Hook had posed to her, but Nyx was now fully focused on the man in front of her, hoping her plan wasn't going to fall through at the last minute.

"... because _his _heart is true, and yours..."

As soon as she saw his aim stray from her friend, she slipped one hand around his collar and reached out with the other to grip the sleeve of his good arm, dropping back down into the hold and pulling him with her. Even with surprise on her side, she knew she wouldn't be heavy enough to fully throw him off balance. So she hooked her feet under the stairs below her and used the extra leverage to yank him the rest of the way down. The gun went clattering to the floor a few feet away. Hook and Nyx landed in a heap on top of a coil of rope.

While the pirate was still moderately disoriented, the thief used what was left of their momentum to roll them over so she was more in control. It wasn't until she saw him smirking up at her that she realized this had left her straddling him. And damn it all if she didn't like the view.

"Well, love," he grinned, shifting beneath her. She tried to remember that he'd just been holding a gun to Belle - that she really should be focusing on other things - but still she could feel heat rising to her cheeks."You really only had to ask - but I think we're going to have to work on your timing."

Nyx hadn't blushed since she was a little girl, but Hook had her cheeks turning red twice in as many days.

Damned pirate.

Still, she wasn't about to let him get the best of her. She let a smirk rise to her lips even as he lifted his hips, knocking her forward onto him and flipping them back over to pin her on the floor.

"My timing's fine, pirate. It's not my fault you've always got a date with another woman." She could feel the curve of his hook at her throat and sobered slightly at the implied threat of metal against skin. Nyx slipped her legs in between them and gave a firm shove, launching him across the room as she rolled to her feet.

"Speaking of which," he smirked, a dark glint to those blue eyes. "I do believe you rather rudely interrupted your friend."

"I'm sure she'll get over it."

"Ah, but you'll have to excuse me," he smirked, glancing up at the ceiling as Belle's hurried footsteps clattered above them. "What kind of gentleman would let a lady find her way unescorted off a pirate ship?"

Nyx moved to block his path as he started back towards the stairs. "The kind that owns said pirate ship," she answered, glancing briefly up through the grate above them. When she caught sight of the gold flash of a cane, accompanied by the all-too-familiar sound of an infuriated Rumpelstiltskin, she grinned. "And I don't think she's exactly as 'unescorted' as she appeared."

All trace of good humor fled from the captain's face when he heard the Imp on deck. "Get out of my way, Nyx. I don't want to hurt you."

Still, she stayed firmly planted in his way, unphased by the cold glint of his hook or the dangerous set to his jaw. "No," she answered simply, but firmly.

When he lunged at her, she twisted away, swinging him around her and then further back into the ship. Justin had always told her she didn't fight fair, and he was right. Her small size had always been a rather severe disadvantage. But where strength and height fell short, agility bridged the gap. Each time Hook pressed forward she moved to redirect his momentum, using the rafters and support beams to keep herself unpredictable, always meeting him from a different direction. She knew she could have thrown him head-first into a canon or against the wall, but Nyx didn't want to hurt him. She only wanted to slow him down.

She could see him growing more and more frustrated with every failed attempt to get around her, and her resolve to keep him off the deck only hardened. With the Imp here, it was no longer about trying to protect Belle.

"Damn it, woman!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "Move!"

"No. Do you have a fucking death wish?" she yelled back, meeting his stare with a glare of her own. "He'll kill you!"

"What does it matter?" he grit out, fist clenched at his side. His breath came in furious pants, and he was close enough she could feel the heat of them on her face.

"'What does it matter?'" she repeated incredulously, firmly shoving him backwards. "Are you kidding me? Do you know how long your men - your friends - spent looking for you when the curse broke? How lost they've been without you? Are you so fucking dense that you think no one would care if you died? If this stupid," she shoved him again, advancing on him with each word, "senseless, juvenile quest for vengeance took _your_ life instead of his?"

She was up in his face now, and she could see that she might have crossed a line with the last bit. She expected him to explode on her, reminding her that it wasn't any of her business. It wasn't her place to tell him he'd more or less wasted the last few centuries of his life. And he would have been right, wouldn't he? She hardly knew him.

To his credit, though, it only seemed to pull him back towards center. The wild fire in his eyes died down a bit and Nyx felt breath return to her lungs, wondering when it had left her in the first place.

"You wouldn't understand," he said quietly.

_Wouldn't I?_ she thought to herself, but she dared not give voice to the question.

Neither of them moved, gradually catching their breath. For a long moment, his eyes were locked on hers. Even as the near silence impressed itself on them, bringing with it the knowledge that his opportunity to confront the Imp had passed, she refused to tear her eyes away.

"Well, love," he breathed in defeat, his customary smirk oh so slowly returning to his lips, though it had something of a bitter twist. "It looks like you've managed to best me."

"Don't take it too hard. I'm sure you'll get a rematch sooner or later." Gods, his eyes were so _blue_. She must have been more tired than she'd thought, because she quickly found herself captivated by them. Unable to move, her breath caught in her throat as warning bells went off hin her head. This was a fight she wasn't going to win - not when he was standing so damn close. She should run.

Then she remembered why she'd come here. "Thank you," she said softly.

"For what, love?"

Abruptly, whatever spell she'd been under broke at the note of confusion and curiosity in his voice. She blinked and took a step away, tucking a loose curl of hair behind her ear in a sudden flash of self-consciousness. _Where had that come from?_

"For Archie. I know you didn't have to - "

"It was nothing."

"Won't Cora be angry?"

Ah, there was that mischievous glimmer in those eyes. "The Cricket was rescued - for all I know he escaped on his own. Nothing I could have done to stop it." He paused a moment. "Much like Smee escaped this morning, I should think."

Her eyebrows knit together in some combination of confusion and concern, her head still buzzing a bit from... well, whatever that had been. She was sure the sorceress wouldn't have let Jiminy leave without, at the very least, taking his heart. Everyone trusted the Cricket - she wouldn't throw away that chess piece so easily. Regardless of the alibi Nyx had provided with a rescue attempt, Hook was still taking a big risk with this game.

"But why?"

"It seems," he smirked, "not even I can spend time with your Cricket without growing a conscience of my own."

She couldn't quite decipher the look on his face. There was a small bit of humor there, as if he were laughing to himself over some private joke. Yet there was something more lurking just behind it - some nameless intent she had no way to describe. But she knew in that moment, regardless of what else might happen or what side they'd each chosen, she could trust him.

Hell, that complicated things.

Damned pirate.

"Still," she smiled. "Thank you."

"You can repay me," he grinned, "by letting me back up on deck now - unless you'd like to roll around a bit more down here."

Nyx laughed at the innuendo and glanced around, trying to remember which way was front and which back. She'd gotten a little turned around, and both ends of the long room looked more or less the same to her. "I think the deck sounds like the better idea - but only if you take me with you. I'm admittedly a little lost."

He shook his head incredulously as he brushed past her, motioning for her to follow. "And she doesn't even know her way around a ship," he teased.

"Well," she shot back with a grin. "My first time hasn't exactly been gentle."

Hook chuckled a bit at that, but didn't respond with a snarky comeback as she had expected. Instead, he showed her the way back up to the sunlight in a companionable silence, offering his hand to help her up out of the hold through the grate she'd been using earlier to spy on him.

The skin of his palm was rough and calloused, weathered by a hard life at sea, and almost intoxicatingly warm. He might have caught her in another moment of weakness had the cold air off the sea not hit her square in the face. The sudden chill had an abruptly sobering effect, and Nyx pulled her hand from his as soon as she had both feet on deck, wondering why she'd let him help her in the first place.

He glanced at her, still smirking, but said nothing as he walked her to the gangplank. Nyx couldnt' help but wonder if he was trying to be a gentleman or if he was afraid she'd try and pocket something as a souvenir. Of course, she reminded herself, it didn't really matter. Friend or adversary, she doubted this would be the last time they'd be at odds.

"I guess I'll see you around, then." She hopped lightly up the few steps by the railing, catching his suddenly serious gaze as she turned to leave.

"Careful, lass." There was a grave note to his voice that brought her up short and had her returning his stare with equal intensity. "Storm's on the horizon."

"I live in Storybrooke, Captain," she smiled, knowing neither of them were talking about the weather. "If it's not raining, there's probably something wrong."


End file.
